It ain’t over and I’m the fat lady by Oonah V Joslin

We’re all strung up on election wire.

It grates, cuts, shreds and twangs

with every changing wind that aspires.

Westminster long since lost it’s chimes

with the people. In these divisive times.

like spider webs, discord spreads,

echoes across chaos, dividing friends,

in the name of god or money. Lies

dressed up as truth: as if the truth is some

thing simple or certain or can be

untangled from the past. Wires,

wires, wires, wires and no communication.

We are divided. Divided. A nation of have-nots

being hung out to dry. But we have

a voice. We can sing together one final, long, loud note.

We can decide which orchestra plays.

Don’t waste your right to VOTE.