Same old caper

 

Election called and ballots printed

Players to the hustings sprinted

The father spoke unto his son

First past the post is one whose won

‘Nother MP, ‘nother council

Red or Blue it's always doubtful

If change will come or just more words

Trite soundbites, to soothe the herds.

For forty years to vote I've come

But now I'm almost sixty one

And looking back through lenses misty

I'm thinking, now I am less nifty,

That what is needed, not just for me

To restore justice and democracy

A new box on the ballot paper

Should be inserted to fix this caper.

This option should be bold and clear

“None of the above” will give me cheer.

The system's broke and must be changed

If we're not to be estranged.

How can it be in many shires

No new thinking is inspired?

Sure the marginals hold the sway

But really, at the end of day,

Do not forget for whom they work

The politicos and all their cirque.

For it us, the citizens and our country

Not just the rich or landed gentry

Red, Blue, Purple and even Yellow

Matters not, nor what they bellow

From the stage, or radio or the TV

But how life's improved for you and me.

Cleaner streets and lights not murk

Schools we're proud of, jobs and work

Help for the homeless, ill and ol' folk

It's not rocket science, it's time we woke.

Politicians work for us, if they can't be bothered

It's too damned bad for we are all dishonored.

How can it be at sixty one

When all is said and all is done

That life's got worse, ruder, harder

Mobile ‘phones embraced with ardour;

Sure it's great to have technology

But is life better for you and me?

Is the question which needs answered

Before democracy becomes a bastard.

Looking after number one

Companies and wealthy sons

And daughters who with great head start

Take the baton and assume their part

Keeping wealth, avoiding taxes

Just as public service collapses

So now what's used by the many

Becomes run-down, short of pennies.

But what is owned by the few

Is well kept and interest accrue

To keep the flow of capital upward bound

As poorer folk scrabble round and round

A short term job, or zero hours

Working longer with pensions soured.

There’s so much wealth, we all agree

But how it’s spread we’ll wait and see

If voting red, or blue matters not

Everything will go to pot.

Are we in it to sort stuff out

Or is it this democracy’s last shout

Is it too late to make the change

The way wealth is shared to rearrange?

Or will this caper carry on

Until all chance of change is gone?