To leave or not to leave
To leave or not to leave, that is the question.
Whether ‘tis right to make the country suffer
The future years of impoverished fortune
To create an unnecessary sea of troubles
And by opposing the EU – an economy at sleep,
And Britain no more, our power at an end,
Suffering heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That isolation is heir to: ‘tis a future
Ne’er to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep perchance to dream of better futures – there’s the rub:
For in that future death what tragedies may come,
When we have run out of coal and oil
Must give us pause when there’s no respect
Just a lost partnership and strife.
For we will bear the whips and scorns of time
From whom we wronged through proud impudence
The pangs of their love will elicit law’s delay
For our insolence of office and the spurns
That warrants such unworthy takes,
When we might have become so much more –
And now our blunt needle creates such coarse wear
For us to grunt and sweat a weary life
With only the dread of an untimely death.
And now Europe, a country distant to our born,
From where no traveler returns, which puzzles the will.
For would it not have been better to bear the ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of.
But propaganda made fools and cowards of us all
And thus the natives of this land made resolution
Which sicklied o’er our future, pale cast of thought,
And putrified our enterprise in the sordid pitch of a moment.
Within that moment our currents turned awry
And we lost, in the name of action.
Opher – 21.1.2019 – with thanks to W. Shakespeare.