If politics and economics were a sport,
We would congratulate the winner and shake hands.
But this is not sport. These are the whips of life
Which scar our backs.
So let us draw a line under hatred.
I know how you voted.
You know how I voted.
You won, I lost.
To the victor the spoils.
I hope that everything you wished for
Will be yours. This I accept.
Our mundane lives remain the same.
Before this battle, we may well have been friends.
Let us hope that this can still remain.
We are bound by our traditions,
By whatever happens next,
And I shall live with this, as will you.
The propaganda I believed
Is as faulty as yours,
The promises equally empty on both sides.
But we are not politicians, economists or statesmen.
We’re just the working class;
Bushy tailed, naïve and bright-eyed.
Neither Trump nor Theresa or Mr. Juncker
Know anything real about our lives.
As with all the rich, they see us only as a distant shadow,
A tool to use to maintain their wealth.
Neither you or I have any idea
Or control on what the future holds
We only have one choice;
No matter how we voted,
We must face the consequences together,
With understanding, not hate.
For whilst we squabble, they grow
More powerful and richer by the day.
‘Divide and Rule’ makes them the victors
And us the fools.