Tuesday, November 20, 2018


(A cRap Ballad)

The Brexit Secretary's resigned,
He doesn't like the deal;
That he's supposed to have agreed,
But now he doesn't feel,
That it's the one he really wants,
Or the one he okayed,
And so between that time and now,
He has become dismayed,
So in effect he's sacked himself,
For gross ineptitude;
Because he was the one in charge,
Of that which was pursued.
And thus he's joined Dave Davis as,
Ex-Brexit Secretary's,
Who once pursued the Holy Grail,
But fell upon their knees,
Indulging in the fantasy,
Fuelled by the common herd,
That Brexit would end all their woes,
And equally absurd,
The idea that our 'Sovereignty',
Would make their lives anew;
By being led by Boris and,
All of his motley crew,
Of mythomaniacs and nobs,
Each one a soft-hand berk;
Who wouldn't know amongst them all,
A decent hard day's work,
If it stood up and punched the lot,
Full in each jowly face;
But now that Brexit's gone arse-up,
There is no hiding place,
And Gove knows this hence his retreat,
From taking Raabs old post;
The chinless wonder knows that he,
Would be seen off as toast,
By the reality of life,
Just like that berk, Farage,
Who should have been gagged years ago,
And never left at large.
To mess up Cameron's great plan,
The Referendum Vote;
To unify the Tories and,
To keep himself afloat,
Until such time the Party and,
All those upon the Right,
Would all come to their senses and,
At long, long last, UNITE!

© Richard Layton

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