They pine for days that never were,
Through fag stained teeth and stagnant slur.
Where blackface clowns and monkey chants
Still echo loud in bitter rants.
The snow was whiter, summers long
They hum some half remembered song.
No climate lies, no “woke” offence,
just ignorance dressed up as sense.
They clutch their flags like sacred skin,
wrap rot and rage and hate within.
A pint, a bet, a Brexit cheer
no future grows, but still they sneer.
Stagnant days spent waiting,
wishing something meaningful to happen.
Pints, regrets and the stench of gammon.