Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter

Life, Poetry, Politics


I feel as helpless now as I did
At fifteen when I couldn’t get
Out of bad situations. The
Wisdom sixty-three years of
Living have given me is paltry,
Flyaway and superficial.
My living has no substance
Beyond daily trials of the
Mind and body, and I
Am not yet poor nor persecuted.

My stomach is a pit of acid
When I think of those less fortunate,
Or those more so, who can’t
And don’t respectively value
Any fortune.

The reality is that those in
Power promise the rest they
Will give them what they want,
And then give it only to

R 03/10/2023 16:49


I could write reams from here about how fucked this country is, but will just give a few pointers:

People not acknowledging when you let them pass parked cars or give them right of way.

People not saying thank you or please.

People hogging the road when there should be space for two cars.

People with no spatial awareness in shops.

People with no filter on volume of their voices.

Having your party conference in Manchester at the same time as announcing you won’t build a promised railway line to Manchester.

Populist racist rhetoric.

Invented facts which are, in fact, lies.

Saying inflation is falling and implying it means prices are falling when actually they’re not.

The first five points are the natural result of 13 years of Tory rule. Those 13 years of Tory destruction of this country are the natural result of Thatcher’s years in power. So don’t give me that shit about Thatcher being more honest or better than the current succession of Tory shyster prime ministers. They’re all the same, and their objective has always been genocide.

Get notifications of new posts by email.

We don’t spam! Read our privacy policy for more info.

Leave a Reply