For A Politician Winning At Last Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

Each time you won selection's race,
Welcomed home with sham disgrace,
The rich and cold stood jeering by
And taunted you with jest and lie.

Today, the road is open now
As laurels sit upon your brow
And those who love you hold you high
To bring you homeward bye and bye.

Old lad, your time is coming fast
The mockery is long since past
As justice through the bullshit grows
To flower brighter than the rose.

Eyes the tabloid rags once deceived
Have seen the light on where you lead
And hope has switched the jeers to cheers
Of those who once would stop their ears.

You have seen neglect and scorn
Like those whose lives are hard and worn
Now the days are yours to harvest
With those to come among the best.

So many wrongs to right it's true
But reason gives us faith in you
You stood apart despised and low
But hardship saw you rise and grow.

And those who sneered are now refuted
As round that balding, grizzled head
The young, the brave and the excluded
Acclaim untarnished hope instead.