A Brexit Poem…

A Brexit Poem…

I’m a Remainer.

Often referred to as a Remoaner.

Or a Traitor.

I’m in the minority.

At least I was way back when.

The day after the referendum.

A thousand years ago.

When old people voted for a future,

young people didn’t want.

If we voted again.

I’m not saying we should.

‘The People’ would be apoplectic with rage.

That their ‘will’ didn’t find a way.

Especially if they then become the minority.

Leaving Traitors at the helm.

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