A poem I wrote after helping to paint Taz's room, and finding a bottle of White Spirit. Still in its raw, unrevised stages, let me know what you think... White Spirit White Spirit, Harmful if swallowed, Keep away from sources of ignition- It’s their fiction Through rose-tinted eyes And flowery diction. Scratch the surface, For thinning the mind, And White Spirit Don’t give sight to the blind. White Spirit, Harmful if swallowed- Lies through letterboxes And posted propaganda; Men in suits, Still thugs In jackboots, Trading swastikas for Ballot boxes, One cross for another Like a wolf in a fleece. Fleece, fleeced for votes On moral panic massive To stir up the passive. Lock the doors, Throw away the key, ‘Ain’t nobody welcome If they don’t look like me!’ White Spirit, Harmful if swallowed. White Pride, Deadly when followed. So keep close, To sources of ignition!
I like it. Didn't know what you were talking about till near the end, but that's kind of a good thing, keeps you reading.
