Socialist Sonnet No. 102
A prime minister losing confidence,
However self-assured he’s in the right,
Whatever misdemeanours come to light,
He will struggle to maintain the pretence
Of near infallibility, and then
Step down amidst bitter claims of betrayal,
Being far, far too grand to actually fail,
Unlike the general mass of men and women
Who prove fickle once they find they’re misled.
Yet there’s still a benefit behind the fuss,
A purpose to this political circus,
To distract from the rising price of bread.
And so departs the familiar face,
While leaving a prime minister in place.