A Sonnet for England

This week on the Dead Good Blog we've been looking at the theme of Shakespeare- the man that coined a thousand phrases and has been hated by struggling schoolchildren countrywide ever since. It has been no coincidence- having been his official birthday last Monday and we've had a host of different angles on his legacy all week. 
Today, I want you to cast your mind back to the start of the week. It was a Monday, you probably went to work. Did you notice anything different? Any mention of it being Shakepeare's birthday? Any mention of St George's day? No, I didn't either. 

On my way into work I didn't see a single flag flying. On my lunch, I took a drive and didn't see a single flag flying (well, a Welsh one but that doesn't count). Over the course of St George's Day I made my way through a good dozen villages and four towns- passing well over fifty churches, schools, hospitals and the like. There wasn't a single flag, not even a bit of bunting. 
Of course, we know what has happened. Over the years, any pride England has had to show for itself has been whittled away by half-cut louts in football tops and the national front- in their many guises. Has it really got to the point where we're scared to fly our national flag for fear of being branded a racist? 
Very soon people will be taking to polling stations across the country. I'll say it here so everyone knows- I would very much rather people voted the Tories in again than gave a single vote to the BNP. I detest the Tories. I consider half the lack of flag waving this year their fault, given the all time low in morale but that aside, if you have to vote a pillock in, at least pick one with some policies. So there, I've had my weekly rant... I'll leave you with a Shakespeare inspired poem- one for the racists out there. 

A Sonnet for England.

Alas, it is the birthday of our muse
Alligned with that of heroic St George
Whose flags once flew though this year were not used-
from England's heart the cross has been disgorged.
Oh, anointed sovereigns of sighs and groans,
we care not to hear your outdated views
on Banana Boat Muslims, lack of homes
I speak for the many- you are the few.
Deliverers of festered visions of spite
not so much brains as ear wax, thou wet squeals
should know once and for all, you're England's blight
we'll fight your campaigns with swords made of steel.
Reclaim our great flag, fly it high and proud
Lift this green and pleasant land from hateful shroud.



Thanks for reading,
Shaun.