Thinking Aloud

2020, what a year, missing loved ones we hold dear.

The vaccines’s coming soon they say, we’re hoping it will save the day

Who gets it first I wonder, the frail and elderly?

Or the politicians, and royalty?

Someone always profits from disaster, never the servant, only the master

who ducks and dives to make more money, before we leave for, ‘the land of milk and honey.’

Today we see capitalism at its worse, emptying the treasury into their cronies purse

and refusing to answer at PMQs; it’s a cert at the next election they’re gonna lose.

But by that time the damage will have been done, leaving the poor and honest to scratch their bum; pay more taxes to make up the loss, the rich will win at any cost.

Blind hedge funds, money trusts and the like, never mind eat cake- get on your bike.

Margaret Thatcher was bad enough, but Boris Johnston’s even worse

than I ever thought he could possibly be, bending the rules just to please

The comic cast from Lord Snooty, 'Fuck the people, just take the booty.'

'We’ve only got five years at most, to take the money and rob the state.

Forget the poor, their needs can wait, my family home needs a new gate.’

I sit here hoping that something will change, no leaving Europe, keep paying foreign aid

We’re rich because we robbed those countries, leaving only cos the people revolted

But by that time we owned the farms, the cotton and diamond mines.

It’s not aid we’re giving, but pay back time, to recompense for the theft of their wealth

and the carnage we left behind.




13 views1 comment

Recent Posts

See All

The demise of spaffer is a long haul; he doesn’t want to go at all. No longer in number ten, he can’t accept he’s a has been. Squatting at Chequers with all his pals, arranging titles to give them all

They’ll be here today, better get to work. Floors cleaned, beds made up; I can’t remember when I last worked so hard, for free-really, it not like me. Time to stop, have a cuppa, have a pee. The music

Hot June, hip Paris, hurrying and harassed, as we run to board the cramped and crushing metro carriage. And then, a voice from behind-‘Excuse me sir, but would you like to sit here? You look tired, an