When she goes to bed at night
Does she worry that she’s failing?
Does she think she’s got it right?
Does she really think it’s worth it?
All the anger and the pain
For she’s aiming to extract us
When she wanted to remain
But she took the poisoned chalice
As she coveted the power
Yet her place as Britain’s leader’s
Getting weaker by the hour
She has Cabinet agreement
And restored some sort of order
But there’s still the knotty issue
Of that tricky Irish border
Resignations all around her
Does she wish she wasn’t born?
Does she wish that she was running
Through a field of golden corn?
Will she ever gain consensus?
Will she even last the day?
When we crash right out of Europe
Will she turn to Mr May
And say “Philip, was it worth it?
I’ll go down in history
As the one who bungled Brexit
Will that be my legacy?”
© Jo Wright
Jo Wright is retired and lives in Dorset. She has written poems and stories all her life but has only recently felt brave enough to begin sharing them with others.