Too Late
Too Late
When we have all been made to feel ashamed
Of what our fathers and their forebears did;
When we have lost a knowledge of the past
And cannot comprehend how people thought,
Believing them inferior to us,
Judged by the latest fashions of today;
When we have lost the wisdom of the Greeks
And cannot see ourselves in Shakespeare’s plays;
When fear comes out in cities after dark
(Police patrol the media, not the streets);
When we cannot utter what we think
And barely even have the power of thought
Since words have been corrupted, lost their meaning;
When inclusivity has brought division;
When diversity applies to race
But never, never, to opinion;
When comedy is banned (it might offend)
And satire’s dead (it’s simply real life);
When pronouns masquerade in place of nouns
And hide the truth of what we really are;
When currency is digital and controlled
Like pocket money for compliant children;
When we are trapped in fifteen-minute towns
And fined and charged for driving anywhere;
When only thistles grow on grazing land
And all we have to eat is bugs and seaweed;
When we relinquish power to global qangos,
Self-appointed rulers of the world
That none of us elected nor asked for;
Then it will be too late to weep and wail.
Sheep at the slaughter bleat to no avail.
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