or: An ode on the resignation of Sir Keir Starmer
The years of constant scrutiny
As those you trusted, mutiny
The colleagues drift to another room
And leave you bathed in Stygian gloom.
The silence of the lonely one
Poignant to be the only one
Who’s not included in the shot
While ‘trusted’ colleagues scheme and plot.
A selfie with the new pretender
Whilst Starmer is returned to sender
The frail and fickle treatment which
Marks Rachel Reeves as one Shoreditch..
She’s absent for the announcement, yet
Made sure she was ‘in shot’ to let
The whole world know that (little liar)
Our chancellor’s very much ‘for hire.’
No loyalty, no backward glance
She takes her grubby little chance
Forgets the leader who supported,
At times perhaps, alone contorted
While other screamed that she be sacked
Our Rachel from accounts was backed
By Starmer and the cabinet
But - herds will move to fast reset
She oils into the Burnham squad
Disloyalty profound, yet odd
But she is not alone, the end
For politicians comprehend
That so their time will end as well.
You’d think they’d see the signs of hell,
Impending closure of careers,
Would make them cautious, close to tears…
The toolmakers’ son fell on his sword,
He blamed no other from the hoard,
The pantomime, the lectern there,
Steve Bray playing Beethoven for a dare
His dignity before the throng
Who bayed for blood: before too long
The crowing Mason, Kuenssberg , Bruce
Were gleeful, let out on the loose
By right-wing billionaires, and such
Whose influence is way too much
While those outside the bubble fear
This isn’t about us - nowhere near.
‘A reset’ Burnham states, with clout
A politics that’s all about
People, places, postcodes where
Forgotten people stand and stare.
Let’s hope so: for it seems we ditched
A decent man: one who was stitched
By media moguls, Musk and Trump
And left for dead on a Whitehall dump.
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