Why I do not like flags | Poetry

    by Sophie Chemenitski aged 66½

    What is the reason that flags really upset me?

    I grew up in Belfast between 1959 and 1977.
    I've hardly been back.
    Flags, in Northern Ireland, are the sign of whether you are a nationalist or a unionist.
    At first sight, that's fine.
    People are entitled to their opinions.
    Freedom of speech.
    Until people bomb pubs, gas depots, bus stations, businesses, homes, cars, restaurants, hotels, chippies, shops, lorries and water supplies.
    And people have their eyes blown out, their legs blown off and their mental health in shattered pieces.
    Personally, I was held up at gun point and just escaped being blown to pieces, aged 14.
    All this because of division of equally poor working class people by the owners of wealth.
    Because of flags, people had legs drilled with Black and Deckers.
    Really.
    In Britain.
    Because of flags.
    People were tarred and feathered.
    Because of flags.
    My auntie's house was bombed while she was in it.
    Because of flags.
    Don't tell me this couldn't happen in mainland England.
    It's already happening.
    Refugee homes being attacked, burned and destroyed.
    Poor working class people being hurt by other poor working class people because of flags, and nationalism and hate.
    Ask anyone from Northern Ireland what flags mean to them.
    You'll get similar answers from those not embroiled in the hate.
    So, enough of your bloody flags.

    If you love, use your love to do better.
    Love your country?
    Go litter picking.
    Run a community event.
    Feed homeless and poor people.
    Share your views that flags are nothing more than a piece of fabric to hide behind and hide your fear that someone else has more than you.
    Flags won't fix your rising cost of living.
    Flags won't fix the cost of electricity going up.
    Flags won't fix the violence by men on women.
    Flags won't eliminate the rich bastards making money hand over fist from extortionate rents.
    Who is your real enemy?
    Ask yourself who profits from all of this.
    It isn't the people in your street, it isn't the people at your work, or in your school or at the job centre.
    It's the very rich, like Starmer, Yaxley-Lennon, Badenoch, Johnson and the rest.
    Follow the money.
    Meanwhile, please, know that flags hurt.
    Put them under the bed.
    Leave them there and go help someone.

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