Beggarland

Beggar land

Welcome to Beggar-land,
Enter the zone of hopelessness -
The forgotten society that
Middle England chooses to ignore.
A plea to these saddening times - as its citizens implore.

It writhes and rears
Its ugly head,
Waiting on every corner of the
high-street paths
We tread.

Haranguing us from shop-doorways
Mauling our malls
Preaching the sermons of their soporific pleasures,
The tirade of need in
Addition to addiction

Hustling, jostling - obstructing phone boxes,
Waiting for hooded youths
To drop cling filmed wraps
Of joy - Into perspiring palms.

Rattling &; roasting
Until the thaw of a score.
Wearing proud 'White Star' badges,
Their Accessory dogs
Barking obscenity to the world.

On march the troops of this
Tragic army,
Of those that have forsaken
Conformist dreams.
In every city, in every town,
Day by day their numbers swell,
The 'underclass' spawned by this modern hell

But you can't get away from Beggar land
With its cruel charms
And instant demands.
Middle England turns its head away
In dis-gust, feigning compassion
But there'll be more than just loose change
to pay.

And why all this? Why has it happened so quickly?
Concerned voices in the crowd may stop and say
And the answer my friend is - 'Market forces'
After all it was Lady Thatcher's way

Now off to play,
In grass arenas - In the 'Needle parks',
For yet another day
And after all they say beggars can't be choosers
So Beggar land is firmly here to stay.