Kind Regards.

Dear Great Britain, 

or would you like to be called UK (?),

It was nice meeting you your border control.

What a shame that we broke up before we even 

got to know each other.

You didn’t try your hardest to keep me, no, instead you 

treated me like an intruder.

Do you think I deserved that? Fact is, Liza has no Visa.

Ok, you got a point there, but did the police really have to 

escort me out of the neutral ground between France 

and the Eurotunnel leading to you?

Was it necessary to let me find a cheap hotel close to midnight?

Was it worth it to leave me in fright behind?

I guess for you it was a formality fun.

Sincerely yours,

Liza

FYI: I don’t like to be called “young lady”.