What there lurks in Theresa May’s mind?
The remnants of trauma of which to find?
An untamed ocean under lifeless locks?
Or a linear guide of who to mock?
I flock from sagacity
To a rageous tenacity
When she has the audacity
To ‘snap’ our capacity
From the ‘strong and stable’ base,
Disgraced by the unfigured promises she has to face.
I could extend on manifesto amends
Though the focus will lend
To a softened end;
Theresa May, with love I say
Do not betray your truth.
I may show my youth
To assert the ruthless simply require compassion
Though the only way to fathom
Wilfully ignored tortured cries
Is if she turns a blind eye to her own.
Unknown whimpers behind a brittle thrown.
Tone set by denial shall break the bone
Of worth, and birth
The barriers of isolation.
A nation based on reason
With themselves and their demons
Shall meet the field of forgiveness,
And the will of trust
That anguish lies in every one of us.