The end of the world's near
We're soon going to be dead.
I'm sure that's what
The fish & chip wrapper said.
Brought over here
From a foreign shore
I can't believe Farage
Isn't protesting more.
Not content with taking our jobs
They come over here with disease
Bringing our dear old N.H.S.
Down to it's knees.
This is rather timely
As this AIDS threat fades
Bring on this Ebola
For the pharmacutical trades.
Billions to be made
Utter it under your breath
The only 'collateral'
Being African death.
When it was AIDS
You didn't care
Until you worked about
White bucks could be made there.
Researcg was 'too expensive'
When the victims were queer
It took straight middle class sying
To up the factor of fear.
Now the Ebola virus
Could be on its way
You need that vaccine
So in Africa it can stay.
Sadly we don't care
Our priorities never right
Dulwich Poet 6th August 2014
(I'm not too sure about this one, it's a poem about the Ebola Virus panic threat in the papers, the uncaring multi-national pharmacutical companies, and their slow uncaring response to AIDS in the 1980's)
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