Within The English Village

As I walk down the streets, wide and narrow streets, l often imagine them
Braving trashings, insults, death threats, batons, teargas, water cannons, the works
And with thousands of riot police trying to break up the protests and strikes
A force to be reckoned with, me, as part of them, hope to perhaps make history again
A history where behind the cloak of fear,  the gale of creative destruction would be unleashed
To be set free to put an end to the unrealistic demands, the catastrophic social implications and the political games of those from every sides of the divide

Of course in my mind, I'm very much controlled,
I'm very much prepared to rein in the masses against the authoritarian rules and religion
Ready for the straight journalistic report of the biting satire and classical literary themes
If not ever-ready to dance along to the euphoric political rallies 
But these are just my imaginations, my wish and hope to be the vanguard of change
And often I wonder, would it have meant a triumphant journey if I know what exactly am I defending, what exactly am I fighting for

Often I don't
Often I'm torn
Often all I see is a thin line instead of a silver lining
Often we all don't
Often we are still trying to comprehend what transpired the previous day's curiosity 
And often it's the biased ideologies
Within the English village
In which we are often bullied into submission, to keep mum
By the ruling elite and the flawed system

-PRK-