Poetry by Edward ian Armchair

Who's to Blame?

Eighty-nine years old, never hurt a soul,
Mugged for your pension in the underpass.
Blamed away the papers say,
Blame it on the tensions in the underclass.

Guns and drugs, knives and stones,
Battered black and blue for a mobile phone.
Blamed away the experts say,
Blame it on the problems of a broken home.

No right or wrong, the kids run wild,
Battered black and blue an abandoned child.
Parents drunk and drugged up fools,
Never taught the kids to obey the rules.

Who’s to blame, who’s to blame?
Thatcher, Thatcher, Thatcher, Thatcher,
Thatcher’s to blame.

Edward says...

Spawned by reading an article in a newspaper about an elderly pensioner mugged by a local youth. Everyone has their scapegoat to blame for such things. Be it society, education, poverty, ignorance, parents, teachers - immigrants for God's sake - there's always someone, often an easy target, to blame. But of course, we all know, it's all Thatcher's fault. The woman who denied that something called "society" actually existed and then went on to systematically destroy the society we had. Created a country of self-serving, self-obsessed, a country of the want, want, want and the me, me, me. And look at what we have now. Those who know what I mean can see, those who can't are blind. Edward
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