Can you please speak up Prime Minister Sir Keir?

Please speak up Sir Keir

Oh, Labour, champions of the working class,
Tangled in a web of compromise, alas!
A pound shop Tory tribute act,
Selling your soul again & that’s fact.

Corbyn. Left-wing pride you deputized.
You banished & callously cast him aside.
Director of Prosecution’s certified tone,
If members don’t like it, be gone he drones.

Cold truth is, in the run-up to an election,
Britain needs a change for we are stuck.
In a two-party system, Rishi or Sir Keir?
A weird intersection & the options suck.

Who votes Conservative?
We know what the Whigs are all about.
Working class hearts gave Boris trust –
The Red Wall tumbling down was a must.

They look for their own & detest the poor.
Billions wiped off Covid-19 fraud?
But earn an extra penny on universal credit,
& the spies catch you? It’s Gordon Bennett!

Shadow cabinet MP’s in flux.
For the sake of power speaking doublespeak.
Gone is the promise of change & renewal.
All Tory faces. No.10 the coveted jewel.

For in May ’97, a triumph was declared,
179-seat majority.
Tony Blair’s entry & glee filled the air,
But 30 years on, The Iraq War his legacy.

Straightaway he tried to secure an exemption,
Hours after meeting Mr. Bernie Ecclestone.
Advertising tobacco ban on Formula 1 relief,
A rising stench activists couldn’t believe.

Growing his fortune & millions amassed –
Tarnished Labour to the core & now outcast.
Property portfolio stained in bloody stealth.
On his legacy the poor lay a Lilium wreath.

Remember Baron Peter Mandelson’s disdain,
Rothschild yacht vacations, living in the fast lane?
Desire for fame & the company of elite,
Indiscreet lifestyles & morals on a heap.

Under their stewardship wealth became a theme,
Ministers pursue paths lucrative in extreme.
Chancellor Gordon Brown stern in his reign?
A lot of people lost while bankers duly gained.

A light-handed touch on financial regulation,
Who’s friends with who? The same old superstition.
Labour will struggle to break free from its cast,
Blair-Brown years & the black shadow past.

Their antics leaked proud support across society,
No longer can they shout we’re The People’s Party.
Leadership need not equate to propel poverty’s role,
Skepticism towards the rich an inevitable toll.

But voices of the Red Wall speak ever so dim,
Levelled up towns still remain quite grim.
National debt, distrust, cynicism within,
Labour & economy are words that never twin.

Inflation’s high digits & the economy is weak,
Labour Party schtum fearing Conservative critique.
In their tepid wariness, hope is what they seek,
Reserving forked tongues & navigating sleek.

“Hard choices,” we’ll do “what’s possible,”
Delivered in a monotone & eyes so dull.
The crowning is near, he says what is feasible.
A single wrong word could wreck his home run.

But the Party’s stance lacks inspiration,
Claw back voters but where’s the foundation?
Whole party concept questioned & ignored.
“Economic growth!” is the shout from the floor.

The threat of a whip & unspoken holds sway,
Cuts still favored; investment in disarray.
Left & right of shoulder they cannot forge,
Purging the left leaves Corbynism in a gorge.

Oh, Labour Party, what has become of thee!
Devoid of authenticity, tribute act we see.
Will compromise lead to your victory’s gleam,
Or shatter your soul, party lost in the dream?

Leadership’s response may claim it’s too soon,
Policies undisclosed yet to fully bloom.
The narrative formed as Ramadan’s new moon,
Stalwarts pray for Churchill to be exhumed.

Tactics like Highland’s mineral water: clear.
No manifesto is needed here!
After crooked Tories, we’ve a right to know,
We ache for better days & desire real growth.

Will you pay for senior doctors cash demand?
Will the water companies be nationalized?
Will child benefit cap & free school meals stand?
Will taxes rise to care for the elder generation?

What about your stance on skunk weed?
The stoners getting stoned but still not free.
In every neighborhood drift clouds of marijuana,
Aura that wafts ruins lives of your neighbors?

In the 1950s, Butskellism took hold.
A blend of two chancellors & principles bold.
Butler for Tories, & Gaitskell for Labour,
Had to compromise in the post-war era.

Differences existed yet a common cause,
Mixed economy, a welfare state, put the people first!
Full employment was cherished of course,
Utopia approached on a pure white horse.

But the tide shifted, cloaks & daggers sway,
Stagflation & Thatcher kicked Butskellism out of play.
Edward Heath & Harold Wilson grappling for ease –
Waned Utopia’s patience & left without delay.

Whispered through the grapevine, Reevuntism.
Archaic words, reborn, transformed.
Philosophizing in a bond that discerns,
As Keir leads Labour into another schism.

We heard this -ism has a centrist hue,
Labour & Tories even closer than before!
Post-Brexit vision, divisions slew,
Shift to the center, consensus to explore.

So Scottish democracy vowed to be denied,
Cuts & privatization in a different guise.
Limited trade friction, a united brand.
Striving together but Keir will be crowned.

The country calls for change resound,
Distance & progress & solutions profound.
Cost of living burden grows bloated by the day,
The poor yearn the coming of a true sage.

Scrap the two-child benefit, fair housing in sight.
Alleviate child poverty; shine a beacon of light.
Increase top earners’ & FT companies’ share,
End punitive charges at home for social care.

(Please speak up, Sir Keir).
(Please speak up, Sir Keir).

Oh, Labour, champions of the working class,
Now tangled in a web of compromise, alas!
A pound shop Tory tribute act?
Minimal changes and that’s fact.

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