The days of good English has went
It trotted around the globe to make a dent
Its not it’s fault, that it lost it’s grace
Even with the natives, its all over the place…


A group of cliques, clicking their own
Selling sadness, sickness, poverty, pity
out of proportions blown
Choosing the bandwagon without gumption
Then blaming the world of corruption(.)


If I donate a penny, it has to be known
I did it, I gave it, highlighted and shown
I am a benefactor, I am so generous
Inside our campus, you exist rather because of us
Read it up there and respect our hanging names
No we are not beggars, neither shameless
In the yearly bible thus we buy our space
The community thrives thanks to our grace.


I will say it in public to get my people’s votes
See I told you! Ask him! Or her! And better get it right
I might transmute my texts and my notes
But frankly who cares? It’s my own language I write!
But you? You are not us, don’t you ever dare
To write in our tongue with your translating desire
We are a foolproof group here, it’s facile to prove you wrong
That no matter what you write, your English is far from strong.


I am an English first, so I know it better than you
I was born with the spoon, to feed the non-English crew.


We will together continue to comment
Your language is wanting, you incompetent
We script it aloud, even when we’re silent.


More than a team, we are a bandit of a group
Our purpose is to feed you, a distasteful soup.
We can be so politely rude, just humour us
We can make you weep alone, in this Christmas.

© supratik 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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