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Best Poems About / On LONDON
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1.
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London's Burning
His eyes reflect the golden fire, his pupils burning bright
As he turns away they feel a sudden, crying urge to fight
Big Old Ben has run away, they always thought it might
London's Burning
London's Burning
The chapels down in Kensington are bursting into flames
The children of the neighbourhood are dancing, gone insane
They hug their parent's knees and try to cry away the shame
London's Burning
London's Burning
Members of the royalty rush in to see the Queen
She's rushed off to a bunker, told to wait and not to scream
But all of London's gone aflame, her bunker traps her here
London's Burning
London's Burning
Teenage gangs are on the prowl, they go from place to place
They need no names or calls or shouts, don't need know their race
Just know that all who wear a hood are filled to burst with rage
London's Burning
London's Burning
2 weeks on, the smoke has gone and rebels rule the streets
No-one walks the road at all for fear of who they'll meet
The dead are marked with crosses red and hid with pale sheets
London's Burning
London's Burning
2 more weeks, rotting flesh is all that you can smell
Water's got infected, and the food's all gone as well
The only people left, they wander in a living hell
London's Burning
London's Burning
Matt Pocock
Read more poems from Matt Pocock >>>
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2.
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boi betta kno
i run ma area reppin london
boi betta kno
i do wat i do reppin london
boi betta kno
kill da fam hu aint reppin london
boi betta kno
fink im tp reppin london
boi betta kno
ditch da rest do da best reppin london
boi betta kno
yhyhyh sfe fam hu reppin london
boi bett kno
arshia khan
Read more poems from arshia khan >>>
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3.
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London
London
I walk every day under your heavy skies
the grey lid that covers your people.
I walk your filthy streets and step past
chicken bones dog excrement vomit urine stains
cigarette ends empty Stella cans pizza boxes
all discarded by your selfish people
who treat your crumbling streets with contempt.
London
your pall of brown smog covers me
yet your cars get bigger
minds of the drivers smaller
every year.
London
what have you left to offer?
You welcome the poor and treat them like animals
you revel in your insular cockney aggression.
London
your Empire is gone
your docks are empty
your trading floors filled with vacuous egotists
intent on grabbing what they can
your football grounds full of glory-seeking merchandise-clad sheep
desperate to see a team of foreigners provide some glory.
London
try a smile
instead of a snarl.
London
try to walk for once
instead of pumping out more CO2 from your 3 litre petrol engines.
Londoners
stop gorging yourselves
stop furrowing your brows
and open your eyes.
9.5.2007.
Jim McDonald
Read more poems from Jim McDonald >>>
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4.
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London Town
London Town
London is a busy town,
A capital with a queen and crown,
With a huge glass wheel called the London Eyes,
And a big brick clock called the Big Ben by,
A stone made statue of Napolean,
Brave and stern,
And a football stadium with tickets to earn.
A shopaholic high street
With a huge bargain signs,
And a big choice of businesses of all the kinds,
An angry and serious prime minister called Gordon Brown,
Who lives on downing street in London town,
A huge range of schools for children here,
And restaurants or cafes or pubs if you want beer,
An oriental place with shops to buy and things to eat called Chinese centre in China town,
So come on down to the busy place know as the capital London town.
jor leou
Read more poems from jor leou >>>
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