All hail the Boris,
The do-er of deals,
He Brooks no kerfuffle,
Or even de Pfeffel,
While screwing loyal Irish,
His Allies of yore,
And leaving our workers,
Protected no more.
The Yanks will be chuffed though,
As the PM does a Trump,
And trouser-coughs across this land,
While Farage hits the dump.
The Brexit party has no role,
If Boris’ deal goes through,
So Nigel has to oppose it,
Or lose his cash-cow too.
What will the Brexiteers do,
If this wins a commons vote?
Or the Lib Dems once they lose,
Their only policy of note?
Parliamentary loyalties,
Are straining fit to burst,
As principles and self-interest,
Compete – the best & worst,
Of MPs hold the power,
To screw us all with ‘Aye’,
Or walk through’Nay’,
And let good sense prevail,
Let Workers’ rights
And British wages,
Live to fight,
Another day.
And so we say…
“All fail the Boris!”
Allies of yore?
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Give me a chance, Brian. I’m a nurse, not a poet. I did my best (first scrawled on the back of a fag packet).
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