This poem was written for the contest 'May Showers' and is about politics and the cancer of capitalism. Theresa May is of course the Prime minister of prime decline in the UK, but Donald Trump would surely enjoy this poem as well.
May Showers When it rains it may pour on the soaking wet poor drenched to the crossbones feeding on crumbs too disempowered at food banks to scramble A hurricane brewing sweeping the floor underneath slipping away into the floods glass ceilings in sight that cannot be reached while scraps trickle down The rich become richer while health care gets lost advantageous no doubt for social benefits cuts we got money for Trident but can’t eat the bills Europe for Britain soon a distant memory and that powerful vision of Peace and compassion in tatters Theresa not mother but May showers despair and Injustice Arrogance neo-liberal Prisons and Shackles Will someone please find me a raincoat and a rubber dingy and pray I don’t drown on insanity’s crossings
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