Brexit Sonnet No. 26 – ‘It’s you must Brexit kick’

What will be doing at Brexit’s final tack,
As doors and ears and eyes do closeth shut?
Why have we set our clock on backward track,
To push our crippled cart through backwoods rut?
When will this demented set of mixed up notions,
Be dumped in history’s rotting landfill site?
How can this politic, this rage that crosses oceans,
Be stopped; no more our children’s lives to blight.
Where to make your voice of protest heard,
Your choice, there’s more than just a page to turn.
Who can lead us, armour clad and spurred?
For he or she that pricks intent we yearn.
Enquired I have from honest serving six,
But truth be told, it’s you must Brexit kick.

©Keith Murphy