Poem – Elizabeth Windsor And Nancy Rothwell :

Some ‘tragedies’ don’t touch me,
I’m not wearing black this week
But that does not mean I am condemning those who are.
By far the worst thing is when people question what you care about,
What you share about,
What makes you feel, so deep and so real.

I hurt seeing strangers wave each other goodbye at the station
But I can also shrug at firepower destroying a (to me) random nation.
I can’t understand the whole “We pay this for the Royal Family!” outrage
When we also pay for a child abuser beaten up and kept in hospital for a year.
Sure, having principals is dear
But your capital lettered tweet is just a scream into an echo chamber, nought.

My single-figure aged niece wants to go and see the Queen in state
And that brings it all home, quite literally.
You might mock grown men wearing Union Jack shirts and top hats
But if you come for an innocent caring child
Then you are more of a problem
Than the pennies I pay to keep your false adversaries in the Palace.

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