Rotting Fruit

I couldn't give a hoot
for democratic fruit
but when the govercunt
you voted for
dons new designer suits

It's like they've grabbed you
by the balls
to promise ripe bananas
when there's almost none at all
thanks to Mr Charmer

They swiped the winter fuel
set cold hardship on the table
while in white warm corridors
fat quangos much on mangoes
as they contemplate their navels

They talked up cleaner greener
when what they meant
was leaner meaner
They've reneged on foreign aid
to build a bigger arsenal
to develop killer drones
in lieu of more food parcels

You've slaved away
a lifetime
to grow your pension pot
to pay your mortgage
and be proud
of the little that you've got

But the fruit bowl's almost empty
and you're choking on their rot
because you know
they wont be happy
until they've nicked the lot

They'll pretend things will get nicer
with one hand on your ISA
then grab the cherry
off the cake
that unpicks the triple lock