Nostalgia

Nostalgia

I am the love for Golliw**s
Churchill’s cigar and British bulldogs.
My definitions of multi-culture you know,
Are entwined with the Black and White Minstrel Show.
I am the recollection of a Britain that was Great,
That described those unlike us as looking like apes.
Shops selling books that sow
Seeds in images like Tintin in the Congo.
I proclaim God’s blessing with right and privilege.
My nations morality hedged
Between good and evil’s worth…
Just check the Codrington plantations connection to the English Church.
The word Society branded into dark skin,
Yet still I’m the one who wants to define racism.
I am the love of all things past.
Oh how the world changes much too fast.
There was a time we took from all.
Now minds hark back to before the Empires fall,
To glories that still infuse our psyche.
Our minds twisted by what made us mighty.
Give us this day our daily bread
And sugar in tea from West African dead.
Let’s mock the image in Robinson’s jam,
And stereotype crimes into racial bands.
The police can search 8 times more likely,
Those we think don’t belong in Blighty.
Political correctness gone mad in the media.
Check the print and the lies I feed you.
White bankers pass the buck on a recession,
To the familiar tune of the immigration question.
And if someone says I’ve got racist trends,
I’ll simply reply that I’ve got black friends.
In times of crisis, or even plenty,
I’m Nostalgia.....the blood on British society.