These Petty Tribes Poem by DM W

These petty tribes hunt in savage packs and can
Smell fear and blood a mile away. These ape men and
Their crude, painted zombies don't like outsiders;
Especially eccentrics and foreigners.
They exist in darkness because they cannot
Face the greater Light. Their loud, primitive grunts
And groans mark them out from civilised fellows.
O they are like Plato's fabled cave dwellers!
They will always follow instinct not reason.
Blinded by the light of an enlightened sun,
They dwell within the realms of shadow kingdoms.
They love their football, food and beer, but not
Much else. They hate art and culture. These clowns
Can be found in many a quaint English town.