Spoilt Ballots or The Voter's Lament.

There once was a party to vote for
A party of great moral note, for
12 years it’s imploded
Its wallahs now loaded
Its leader’ll soon grab his coat for…

… the exit, the boozer, the park,
Any place where the mood’s not so dark
So pregnant with rage
Is the tone of the age
That frenzy’s not wide of the mark…

… but as sure as it came it’ll pass
For the party of our working class
As the Tories take charge
Their majority large
They’ll be praying for aid as at mass…

…but what aid can improve on our lot?
With corruption a hideous blot
On the landscape of news
It’s a vivid vile bruise
So we’ll just count the good stuff we’ve got…

…which is 500 people still straight
Keeping silent for safety of late
This is wise in the racket
But plenty will pack it, in
set for tsunamis of hate…

…so there’s plenty for fascists to gloat for
In the absence of much moral note, nor
Is there cause to be cheerful
On the flip, don’t be tearful
Just make up your mind who to vote for.