Perhaps it’s time,
That we all threw
our toys
from this global
Pram.

Humanity shouting
In righteous indignation,
Just where the hell
Is my jam?

Jam tomorrow,
Jam yesterday,
But never jam today.

The time has come,
I have to say,
We passed the pot.

From those who have
to those who have not,
Before we eat the fucking lot.

They string you along,
And tell you lies,
Perhaps even
Sympathise.

But they hold the spoon
And the jar,
Where once was plenty
Is now just empty.