“We’re a ‘broad church'”

Willy-nilly
Silly Labour
Laid a path
That led to farce,
So rich it made
The face palm
And the belly laugh
As vetted voters,
Left reflective,
Failed their pasts
And forfeited
The Party’s way
To buy a say
According to
The rules
Its Parliamentary fools
Themselves did craft.

And all not-Corbyns,
Right half mast
But clinging fast
To their conceit,
Did swear
With indignation that
The Party’s congregation
Was a ‘broad church’
Where the values don’t compete.
And, as it purged the surge
Of prodigals and fretted
At the flood of new,
Enthusiastic blood, I thought:
Then why is it
You’ve only one hymn sheet..?

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