Their neurons and their babbling wires.
Theres, going to be a riot, a strike,
A people’s protest! Rage, the like
Of which we’ve never seen before –
Blood on the electoral floor.
… And so it came: Election Day,
Come Thursday on the fifth of May;
Street yobs still mugged and drunks still begged
Whilst MP hopefuls hedged and egged.
The sun still shone with irony
On concrete and bryony
As penilled hands wove hence and thence
From ‘Change makes sense’ to consequence.
By 3am, results announced:
The Reds triumphant, Blues well trounced.
‘The times are changing’ headlines screamed
As England cheered and clapped and dreamed.
Still, voteless time will never squirm
Throughout its multicoloured term;
Complacency still rides clock hands
Until the victor’s day is damned.