Poetry: Hive (Things are changing…) by @NarkiP

The hive is creep­ing out, I repeat

The hive is creep­ing out my friend.

They won­der why so many things have changed,

The truth being they will nev­er be the same

For the hive is creep­ing out.

For years in draw­ing rooms and brothels in the land,

Big­ots and judges spit out their view.

That the Blacks are here, bloody Rag Heads to stay

And fair Old Eng­land is los­ing her pure blue.

Now a mix is Old Town, awash with the colour,

The slaves, dogs, work­men of old

Are shrug­ging their shoulders, unshack­ling loose chains

And con­front­ing Britannia’s shield so bold.

The hive is creep­ing out my friend

Wheth­er the sluts like it or not,

For through plun­der abroad and a grow­ing machine,

Seis­mic con­sequences in idle neigh­bour­hoods are soon to be seen.

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Rishma

Edit­or / PR Con­sult­ant at No Bounds

Rishma Dhali­w­al has extens­ive exper­i­ence study­ing and work­ing in the music and media industry. Hav­ing writ­ten a thes­is on how Hip Hop acts as a social move­ment, she has spent years research­ing and con­nect­ing with artists who use the art form as a tool for bring­ing a voice to the voiceless.

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