THE BREXIT CATASTROPHE (in the style of “The Tay Bridge Disaster” by William McGonagall): A poem by me (and GPT Poet)

Gather round, ye listeners, and hear me tell
Of the Brexit catastrophe, upon which I shall dwell.
’Tis a tale of political folly and woe
In which shameful charlatans played ridiculous roles.

First there came UKIP, all anti-EU cries
And divisive rhetoric, sowing discord and lies.
Nigel Farage, their leader, of the incontinent mouth,
Trumpeted intolerance, north, east, west and south.

Then debonaire Dave Cameron, that pathetic PM,
With a gamble so reckless it was a cardinal sin.
He promised a referendum, assuming he’d win,
And all just to pacify his loony right wing.

Prime Minister May, who was once a Remainer,
Was now all for Brexit, but wasn’t a game-changer:
The nutters couldn’t stand her, they kept saying No.
So Turncoat Theresa had to up sticks and go.

Boris Johnson, the charlatan with toff-tousled hair,
Campaigned for Leave just to further his career.
He painted false visions of a prosperous land,
Visions that post hoc went straight down the pan.

Loopy Liz Truss’s trade deals were touted like gold,
But the reality was, it was dross we’d been sold.
She and her Chancellor: an economic nightmare
As Kamikwasi’s budget wreaked instant despair.

Sunak the Smarmy promised to make it alright
While British rivers and beaches were awash with Brexshite.
The reality’s grim, with job losses and strife.
The Brexit balloons? All burst by Brexknife.

Oh, the Brexit catastrophe is a terrible tale
About pompous politicos letting our country derail.
Their malevolent influence, their incompetence and greed
Have left us in a sorry state (as of May 28, 2023).

If William McGonagall, that poet of old,
Were writing this saga, so much more would be said,
But neither ChatBot nor I can better that bard.
Goodnight, Little England. I’m going to bed.

"House by the Railroad," Edward Hopper, 1925


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