My War Ration Piece Poem by Ben Reynolds

Choking on fumes, coughing up money...
Production of those that produce them,
ending looms, electric boom blooms.
Renewable energy, changing the penny although haven't many.
Grain's of rice spiced chicken fillets,
fresh veg stu gravy mash three days a week,
mind you don't spill it.
Sanctioned support, restrictions on working,
for them they don't deport, not the welcome you thought.
Shedding tears for the over boarded boat-full,
immigration or invasion, seen red; charged like a fool.
Basically, history, heritage; for those seeking asylum.
The fledgling Pigeon outside, getting bigger wings now, try them.
Fukin' Magpie!
has had three babies and one egg already,
I've got to get ready, steady...
Go!
At the prelude to the downgraded, outdated country.
Three wise coming kings always seems to turn things around.
Housing costs more, for those who are holidaying,
One small point to prove but your tax bill I'm not paying.
I'll listen to someone who was abducting or was it obstructing,
me, illegally working for some that never thought to stop,
or tried listening.