The Choice – a poem

The Choice

 

To shoot, strangle, poison, gas

Or cut our own wrists.

We’ve been busy

Digging our own graves.

We know who will be the ones

To be screwed.

Our public services

And the poor

Will pay the price.

The rats are already

Loading their rafts

With loot,

Stuffing their pockets

And laughing

All the way

To the bankers bonus.

 

Opher 7.12.2018

 

 

I was not surprised to hear that Rees-Mogg had moved his wealth abroad. He is worth millions. He wouldn’t want its worth to decline.

You can bet your last quid that the wealthy will not suffer from the decline in our economy if we do go out. They love chaos. They are already working out ways to profit.

While we will be slashing our wrists they will be straining their backs carrying their sacks of gold abroad.

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