Tuesday, 7 April 2015

Election Sonnet 2015


One vote, one rhyme

Mere weeks now before we'll at last have been polled,
invited from all of the options extolled
to choose with our crosses the people who’ll hold
[the] positions of power (they won’t ‘break the mould’).

They’ll whistle to scare us to stay in the fold
with views of the world that have long since grown cold:
[where] we’ll only be safe if the streets are patrolled
and [the] wealthy or poor (take your pick) are controlled

with [the] money that comes from the young, or the old,
and [the] proceeds from assets refinanced or sold
to anyone bearing a bucket of gold
(the handcuffs intended to shackle the bold).

Imagine if, somehow, by voting we told
the whole bloody lot – you’re no longer involved.


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