What Britons want is anybody’s guess

What Britons want
is anybody’s guess.
Do not ask me, for
I am only one;
I did not seek this mess:
not for my gain
not in my name,
was Brexit’s pain begun.

I did not seek this source of stress
that stalks my country,
walks her backwards,
makes her people less
with less.

I did not seek a council of
emboldened third-rate jesters
nor the laissez-disconnect
from fact and intellect that festers;
sends attacks across
my patriotic bows and, even now,
undaunted by reality, does will
a march of muddled expectations.

No, nobody knows
what Britons want,
beyond humiliation
as a glaring guarantee
while glowing Pride
befalls a nation.