Eton Mess Poem by Mary Champion

25.3.2016
This Eton Mess that calls itself a government -
Conservatives intent on constant change.
Blinded by their wealth
They can't conceive
The lives of those they claim to represent.

This bastion of privilege - a cabinet
Of fat cats who monopolise the cream.
Only conserving
Their class and kind,
While every other need remains unmet.

And obsessively they centralise all power,
Outsourcing all the blame way down the scale.
Cutting back the means
Demanding more.
Curse the shrivelled plant that will not flower.

This cloying Eton Mess, this silver spooned elite
Who strive to take us back to ‘golden' times
Where brutal barons
owned shackled serfs
And none would dare to question their conceit.