Thursday, 4 April 2019

One Vote




Whose vote shall I consider it to be,
The one that killed democracy stone dead?
Whose vote said voting’s not for you my friend,
Far better left to better men, like me?
Whose act of sabotage, could it be said,
Brought universal suffrage to an end?
Who had such arrogance, yet will pretend
He acted in my interest?  Guto Bebb,
Shall I blame you, or Steven Brine in stead?
Whose vast impertinence do I discern,
Justine Greening’s, that of Djangoly, 
Ken Clarke, or mindless Philip Lee, 
The Gormless Letwin creature’s, Mr Burt’s,
Spelman’s, Gymah’s, Sandbach’s, whose vote cast
Our nation into purgatory, to last
Until a foreign power sets us free?
I needs must fit a face to this, you see,
Imagine him who thought me such a pleb
My vote should count for nought, while his should weigh
More heavily than gold.  Who can defend
This theft, this giving Sovereignty away,
To watch it disappear on the ebb,
Unsure of its eventual return,
Whose vast conceit would lead him to inveigh
Against collective wisdom, and attend
To voices from the continent and bend
To their will, glad at being led astray?
I view you all with absolute disdain, 
Go straight to you know where, and there REMAIN.






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