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Thursday, 8 December 2011

Mrs Maggot Thatcher

Epitaph to Mrs “T”  (version 2)

This poem is dedicated to Mrs T, when and if
the witch ever pops her clogs.

The day will come
When the witch is dead
As all good Tories
Must bow their heads

As they write the sermon
To praise this evil one
The Britain she created
No society or class
Just them, not us
Unwashed working class

Praise be to railways
That we once had
Long live the thieves
Who stole our gas

All the utilities
That made Britain great
She sold them off
One by one
Power and riches
To her Tory chums

Let's build a raft
Proper and fit
Props from the mines
The disused Pits
Wooden poles
Her body lashed to it

Tow it to Sea
Way out of sight
Just like the Belgrano
We will sink her at night

Pinned to the raft
As it sinks all alone
A note from the bitch
"Please forgive me"
"You were sailing home"

Peter Wicks(just day  dreaming) 2007

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