The Wild Wind Blows

I hear it outside my window on the third floor,
Beating relentlessly at my window,
Like a savage boar
From distant tales of a continent below

In my mind I wander,
Cannot concentrate getting farther away
At simple things it takes a gander
Have to try and keep internal wildness at bay

Still I hear it beating
Beating like a drum against the fickle wall 
outside, while I'm in here a-thinking
Slightly heeding its' wild, wild call

Outside the wind it tempts me,
Wildness stirs within, caged by tamed flesh
This wildness no-one can see,
Tamed, encased in a body that acts as its' mesh 

No Country for Young Men

There they go again,
Like little pigs clambering to the sty
Continuing as this country's bane
As the youth cast a weary eye.

We are broken, we do not fight,
We just watch on as they fumble and stumble,
Grumble about past follies and continue
to make our country crumble.
To them we are the blight.

What's the point in blind hope,
Dreams get dashed.
They continue to garrotte,
We continue to get bashed.

This is no country for young or the old,
The weak, the hungry or the cold.
These are the people you cajoled,
Our honour you did not uphold.