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At the Gates of Westminster.

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At the Gates of Westminster.


From the doorstep of Westminster to the  boarders of the north.

Our country is in chaos as uncertainty is brought forth.

The snap election of June the ninth brought tears and mass confusion.

And what was the point of the whole thing? We are at the mercy of  political dilusion.


As the result day  dawned with skies of grey, it brought a disaster for Theresa May.

Though the labour party snatched a bargin, it was still a no win for Jeremy Corbyn.

As the votes rolled in, the answer sparked an argument.

The results staggered the nation, we had voted for  a hung parliament.


So who  would run our country now, now that nobody won and no one knows how.

Who would stand and rise to the bate , of governing Britain, this  noble state.

Why May of course, though the Conservatives were slaughtered.

She refused to stand down, she refused to be thwarted.


So in truth the  pointlessness of  politics is layed bare, you may hate the  Conservatives but they don’t care.

It seems that our votes were completely miscounted, we are in deeper trouble than before and our wishes were discounted.

Perhaps the next election will bring us more joy, perhaps we will finally get rid of the Tories.

Whether this comes to pass, we may never know, we can assure ourselves though that the unrest will grow.