Hoist Your Colours

You took your blue love to the country, with your blue bus, coaxed the lambs,

yet all your tortured promises painted red across our land.

Your scarlet lies bleed into whitened teeth and bloodless smiles,

resting on starched rhetoric that will never come to trial

for those thousands, who though faceless, announced throughout the year

are a harvest you will long reap with a money grubbing leer.

You claim it was a season, a time of testing fears

doing all you could at cost of a generations tears.

You will never take your colours back from your mire of blackened shirts

filthy, with your own dark thoughts, of Gold amongst their hurt.