Between ourselves, between us and these four walls, Between the lines, between the circle and the stalls, Between heaven and a hell on earth, Between what we get paid and what we’re really worth. Between the sheets, between the pimps and whores, Between foxhole and no-man’s-land, between the wars, Between mad mullahs and the neocons, Between what we’ve been told and what is really going on. Between the sun and moon, between Venus and Mars, Between the Hawksmoor churches and the girly bars, Between what we’ve been shown and what we choose to see, Between our expectations and reality. Between a rock and a hard place, Between a fine wine and a pretty face, Between hope and fear, and love and hate, Between the first move and checkmate. Between two stools, between us and them, Between the trustafarians and the Yard men dem. Between politicians, between right and wrong, Between here and where we’re coming from, Between there and where we want to be, Between the wage slaves and their liberty. Between what we destroy and what we make, Between the way we live our lives and what the Earth can take, Between lift-off and landing, between push and shove, Between misunderstanding, the people and one love. Between the best of friends, Between Mrs May and her majority, Here's where the story ends, Between the devil and the DUP.
Grim Chip is a founder member of Poetry on the Picket Line.