‘' She's Now Knee Deep In Brown ‘' Poem by Bri Mar

Smoke and fire,
This was dire,
Her voice she could not mend,
Did they conspire,
Would she retire,
Could this be the end?

Her chancellor feels,
A lozenge heals,
So, he gave her one to suck,
There's no appeals,
Over dodgy deals,
She shout's, what rhymes with muck?

Her P45,
Did arrive,
This really caused a stink,
She took a dive,
Then lost her drive,
Her Premiership's on the brink.

As the letters fell,
You could smell,
The demise of the Tory toff,
You could tell,
She was in Hell,
Was that what made her cough?

Teresa May,
Will she stay,
Or succumb to hungry Horace,
She say's no way,
Another day,
I'd sack the one called Boris.

Could this be topped,
Yes, her jaw dropped,
She'd suddenly lost her crown,
Now Teresa's flopped,
Boris can't be stopped,

‘' She's Now Knee Deep In Brown ‘'