Norman yolk

For thousands of years, the Britons did roam,
A lonely island was their home,
Though when the wall was built by Rome,
The Celtic people were split,
To the south the Britons, under a Roman stick,
To the north remained the Picts,

The after Rome left, a void left to fill,
a void for which men would kill,
Angles and Saxons came from the sea,
In the North the Gaels were flooding,
A new home for the Anglo-Saxons came to be,
The Picts surely could see what was coming,

Britons and Picts, losing their tongue and name,
Now Gaels and Angles reside,
And as all do mix and become the same,
Each keeps their own people and pride,
The Irish too, to Britain would come,
The Vikings mostly hit and run,
Yet another was coming to join in the tale,
The Normans had armed and set sail,

Be they Celtic, Scandinavian or Germanic,
All had great reason to panic,
For the Normans they came, swelled with fury and men,
Intentions for the Natives to never rule again,
One an islands of many peoples, just two now for sure,
The Norman rich, the rest, the poor,

And as time passed by, they would claim to blend in,
Say the Norman oppression was finished,
Yet to this very day, they exist and they grin,
As we peasants struggle in anguish,
We must rise as one, we common folk,
And expel this Normal yolk...