The empty spaces on the wall.
Were filled with memories of you all.
But my friends, now all's lost.
We said goodbye, but at what cost?.
We lived the dream with no doubts or fears.
And swapped warm ale for chilled Sangria.
No British blues, just Latino fun.
With no rush hour queues, just Spanish sun.
Now we've been told, we no longer belong.
Our visas been cancelled, so this is so-long.
Our dream is over - through no fault of our own.
We've gotta go home.
.
This Brexit dream was just a con.
Our pensions spent, now it's all gone.
Promises that just weren't true.
Consequences not thought through.
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Author:
Andy Hunter (
Offline) - Published: May 8th, 2021 14:28
- Comment from author about the poem: Although I have never been in a position to afford to retire to Spain, I can't help feeling sympathy for those that have sold up and taken the plunge only to be told they have not got the correct visas due to Brexit so must return home. Many have sold everything to realise there ambition so have very little to return to.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments4
Welcome home from the patriotic home guard of true Brits and the illegal immigrants among us.
You will no longer be a foreigner in a foreign land once home.
Hence the final line, consequences.
One advantage of having bugger all is that you have very little financially to lose. Still can't help feeling sorry for some who innocently just wanted to spend their retirement in the sun.
Yes the Brexit dream was a con, so much misery since it happened. I too feel sorry for those who have had their retirement dreams shattered because of Brexit.
Andy
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