Considering duly that a prince's court Is like a common fountain, whence should flow Pure silver drops in general, but if 't chance Some curs'd example poison 't near the head, Death and diseases through the whole land spread.
The Duchess of Malfi
Dear Prime Minister,
You have cost us dear:
Not just in deaths -
In the surplus population
Decreased;
Not just in isolation
And the bell that tolls
On our mental health;
Not just in crowded wards,
and hospital beds
or final farewells said
at an online funeral;
Not just in incomes lost,
Lives put on hold,
An economy bust;
But in trust.
You fiddled while Rome burned,
Mr Johnson,
Played bowls on the green
As wave after wave rolled in;
Took your throne to the sea
to show you had not the power
to turn back the tide.
“We’re in this together," you said,
A common herd in search of immunity.
It beggars belief that our pain and grief,
Meant nothing to you:
You "listened to science" and paid it no heed,
Grew fat and obscene on the proceeds of greed;
You poured out your lies and the Chateaux Margaux,
For your lackeys and lap-dogs and courtiers to sup;
So to quote Mr Churchill...
You have buggered it up.
Draft 1
Considering duly that a prince's court Is like a common fountain, whence should flow Pure silver drops in general, but if 't chance Some curs'd example poison 't near the head, Death and diseases through the whole land spread.
The Duchess of Malfi
Dear Prime Minister,
You have cost us dear.
Not just in deaths –
In the surplus population
Decreased.
Not just in the pain and grief,
Of widows alone at funerals,
In isolation and depression.
Not just in cancelled exams,
In crowded hospitals
And loved ones lost.
You gambled our lives with weighted dice,
Played poker-faced and marked our cards,
Grew fat on the proceeds of greed.
You fiddled while Rome burned,
Mr Johnson,
Played bowls upon the cliffs
As the ships rolled in;
Took your throne to the sea
to show you had not the power
to turn back the tide;
“We’re in this together -
A common herd”
You were not so much Churchill
As poor George the third.
You poured out your lies and the Chateaux Margaux,
For your lackeys and lap-dogs and courtiers to sup -
In short, Mr Johnson,
You have buggered it up.
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