Poverty in the north

There’s nothing to offer but an LCD screen
The way it teaches, the things it teaches
The pulpit of it; the altar
The twisted chemistry tube of its features

It does not change anyone’s life
It only records them as documentaries
The poorest people that fall before parliament
A if a regiment had gone over them

No hospital places; no food in many cases
He climbs the hills of Burnley in winter
A dog collar trying to do his best
He huddles in prayer with those still left

Here comes the flooding; here comes the snow
Without mercy for those alive below
The gas has gone cold; the electricity is blue
She reports the weather but there’s nothing she can do

The dog collar cries in his church
He has dug deep to find the right words
He carries the burdens of those he cannot help
To the grave for those in poor health

It bites down with the teeth of a machine
it rules in fury over everyone’s dreams
They look to the government just to keep them alive
But they can’t even do that and many expire

A community shattered like slates from a roof
In long term neglect; they bury the truth
A community broken, unready for disaster
From the warming climate that warms up faster

The people of the north, the east, the south
The poorest in spirit, the least in wealth
Depending on services that hardly can feed them
They must help one another for no one can defend them

There are those who shovel money like coal
Into the engine that always is cold
Cold in the heart; cold in the mind
They put aside the miseries of others every time

Don’t put your trust in human understanding
Empires they end and nothing is let standing
Yahweh is God go to him this December
His gift is life whatever your gender

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