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Personal Note:

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Poem

When the bombers are in town,
And soldiers daren't open fire
Because  the legal profession 
Is so readily there for hire
With no win no fee basis,
Always eager for a prosecution
When a  military campaign
Has come to its conclusion.

When the rioters rule the streets
Because the police are so few
And there’s not enough of them
To care about me and you.
They’re all busy  guarding
The rich in their secure  estates
Ensuring top class security
As they hide behind their gates.

When the NHS is sold off 
To the Tories Yankee mates
And we’re, in all but name,
The latest of the United States,
When Brexit is just a memory
And you can get immediate sack,
Just take it on the chin mate
For you’ll have your country back.

When that country is a wasteland
Ruled by the gun and the knife
And indiscriminate mob rule
Is just an accepted fact of life, 
The death of the Welfare State  
The inevitable ending to the story
When the working class majority 
Goes and votes for the Tory.

Liz is still in the Palace
Phil does things his way
It’s like a scene frozen from
A modern kitchen sink play.
It’s back to Victorian times
With just a few mod cons
To pacify the peasant classes
As that privileged few march on.

So, Hey ho for Merrie England
A place that never existed,
A place where Christianity
Was warped, bent and twisted
To concentrate the power, make 
Social progress grudgingly slow
And with, God Still In His Heaven,
Maintain that jolly old Status Quo.

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