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Don’t we all live in a makeshift reality?
An ebb and flow of peace built from calamity,
And on this surface of castles built from bones
Are the charcoal scars that manifest as homes.

 

We pray for riches that might be unearthed.
We pray for riches the day we are birthed.
We pray for reason that need be the meaning –
Of a godless spirit that grins at us screaming.

 

But this God is great to all who you trust
Oh God has grace for those who you lust,
Oh God is this and this is enough
So what to say but enough is enough.

 

We’re enough of concrete remedies
That bulldoze our solutions,
We’re enough of these elite minorities
That rule-over our suggestions.

 

We’re enough of these complete atrocities
That bring more pollution –
That fool us with every election –
And fool all our possibilities,
Oh, we’re enough of these cheap bought fucking policies.

 

Was it us that voted in these oil giants?
Or maybe let them govern our natural lands?
Like the people devout to a king
Who thinks that we don’t understand.

 

But we know what they bring
Is poison for half a grand.
Was it us that voted in these oil giants
To govern our natural lands?

 

Oh bringing a barrel that kills to be made
And kills to expand.
Was it us that voted in these oil giants
Or was it the people of these natural lands?

 

Don’t we all live in a makeshift reality?
An ebb and flow of peace built from calamity,
And on this surface of castles built from bones
Are the charcoal scars that manifest as homes.

 

Be it blood, mud or scars of what’s been burned.
How can we negotiate?

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The sun is coming up but I’m going home

Will Makin writes a poem for Erasmus Magazine every month. This time about the contrast…