Ode to Hilda

It’s not like I’m just sat around

Waiting for the shout

That you’ve taken in another breath

 But couldn’t let it out

My ears still ring with all the twisted

Shit you used to spout

But I really do have more important

Stuff to think about..

Like the legacy you spawned

And how it’s fucking us again

Though these clueless public schoolboys

Are putting you to shame

At least you set the rules

To your class-dividing game

Instead of praying on a fluke

While playing at arcane..

I guess that there’s some comfort

To be taken from the fact

That in your demented state

You cannot point out what they lack

Or take pleasure in the pain

Of this second round attack

Or comprehend the lines they’re scratching

With the Union Jack..

Of course we’ll take them down

Just like we did you

Battling with capitalists

Is hardly something new

But I wish your twisted brain

Functioned enough to see it too

And to know how many folks

Have your wake on their things to do..

So here’s to plans to party hard

As your time here decreases

Margaret Hilda Thatcher

May all you stood for Rot In Pieces.

 x

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