This city I call home was founded by Romans, repeatedly attacked by Vikings,
survived by Anglo-Saxons, dramatised by Shakespeare,
blitzed by Nazis, and personified by every modern-day Briton the far-right nationalists don’t want here.
This city was built on a foundation of ashes and bathed again in great flames, where corporate skyscrapers are erected on top of pauper graves
that contain casualties claimed by bubonic plague.
This city I call home was built on rock and the Rolling Stones,
where today’s youth fight stars & politicians just to get themselves in a decent enough position to make an honest living.
The city’s suburbia does battle on green fields on a typical weekend afternoon
or dark alleys on weekday nights; people swear allegiance to factions
that crave ultimate glory or immediate wealth… or both…
nevertheless, the demise of a traitor to either side is preceded only
with a blood-curdling plea for mercy.
This city is an artistic mecca; where actors from all over the Globe
follow this city’s subterranean rainbow-coloured brick railroad,
living out their dreams re-enacting stories of old;
where Primrose and Notting hills are alive with the sound of music;
where Camden is a bohemian rhapsody,
proclaiming itself as the most eclectic place in the galaxy.
This city is a fortress.
Many have tried to destroy it, what with explosive rucksacks
blitzkrieg bops, or even an infamous gunpowder treasonous plot;
even when civil anarchy strikes, the city unites
armed with dustpan and broom to fight the good fight.
Though political rats in bespoke suits and tie
pillage, loot, and gentrify every borough
and every council estate, forcing it to equate with middle-class tastes,
every working-class citizen can proudly proclaim:
“We built this city!”
The city where damn near 8 million call it ‘home.’
The co-founder of the Industrial Revolution
that gave this nation it’s proverbial backbone.
So enjoy your public-access WiFi from Platform 10…
just remember who built this city formally known as Londinium.