Dead in a Ditch

Tachybaptus, Going Postal
Two ravens on a tree above a corpse in a ditch
Arthur Rackham [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons


You could have been the man who saved the day,
And won renown and everlasting fame.
Instead of that, you ducked and ran away:
Ten years from now, no one will know your name.

You could have been the one who brought us out,
And rescued us from Germany’s embrace.
We dreamed of victory, you gave us rout:
And soon no one will recognise your face.

You spoke brave words, then scuttled like a mouse,
At the first challenge you turned tail and fled,
Yielding to the vile traitors in the house:
We dared to hope, but now our hope is dead.

We never trusted you, but thought your pride,
Your lust for fame, would lead you to do right.
It was a sham: you’re on the other side,
Aiming to deepen, not relieve, our plight.

A month ago you boasted ‘Do or die’ —
‘Dead in a ditch’ you’d be if we stayed in.
You lied to us: now in that ditch you lie,
And on a branch above the ravens grin.


Copyright © Tachybaptus 2019

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