London the capital city, but
A city of two centres today
Onr of pomp wealth ceremony
And ostentatious display
While around a blackened hulk
Not so very far away
Families mourn their lost
As the ceremonials play:
Wait In hope for news of the missing
Always a little hope, a little chance
Perhaps by some chance still living,
Not victims of violent circumstance.
Always the hope while the
Rescue services search around
Just a small hope, please,
It's not just bodies that are found.
A tale of two cities
One of ostentstious open wealh
Uncaring. selfish and self serving
Another of violent and sudden death.
A tale of two nations one selfish
Aggressive, privileged, self contained
And the majority of citizens sharing
The crumbs of what remains
In the temple once again the
Money changers are in control
My nation has become
An entity with very little soul.
They pay lip service to Christiam charity
While arrogantly forging ahead
Trying to find excuse to avoid blame
For the hopeful, the bereaved, the dead.
They rode in their coaches
Uniformed bedecked medal displayed,
Surely in respect for the mourning
This tradition could have been delayed
A modern tale of two cities
Whose parts seldom meet;
One of subservient majorities
And uncaring, self promoting elite.
