Progressive Politics

Walking down streets paved in blue-tinted bricks, Past shuttered-up shops and rust-covered picks. Mums push their prams, faces heavy with doubt, Eyes on the pavement, just trying to tough it out. Charity stores sell the rich people's wares— Cast-offs in corners, dreams sold in pairs. Old factories smashed, turned to homes overnight, Yet asbestos still whispers its long toxic bite. Fathers now gone, lost to cancers and means, Their stories forgotten in capitalist schemes. Schools overflowing with tongues from afar, Kids dreaming in dialects under the same star. The great British dream lies torn up in tatters, Drowned in false promises spilling from chatters. By ministers blind to the mess that they’ve spun, Still chasing their “progress” while we come undone.