The Show Must Go On Notting Hill Carnival

While the same masters than long before

Sit comfortably numb in their patent leather armchairs

So many crimes have been perpetrated in the name of our own good

We the people, the real people outside, we are starved of our Liberties

And as the sheep file in line to the slaughterhouse

The dream slowly vanished in the night

Is it a farewell, is it a goodbye ?

Only he who dwells on the other side, knows the answers

Written By Hughes-Photo On 25th August 2020