They said the spending served the people,
yet the debt climbed year by year;
billions borrowed in our name
while criticism grew unclear.
Funds flowed outward through the system
to agencies, boards, and chosen hands;
consultants multiplied like weather
across the desk of Labour's plans.
And somewhere in the quiet machinery
a lesson slowly settled in:
those who echoed approved opinions
always found them welcomed in.
The taxpayer kept paying bills
for programmes we could not explain;
meanwhile roads, hospitals, and households
groaned beneath the growing strain.
Then came the language of “alignment,”
of narratives that must be “safe”;
and many wondered if rationale
still survived within the state.
No tanks rolled through the city squares.
No uniforms appeared at doors.
Just grants, incentives, panels, contracts
slid controlled through corridors.
Now, months before the new election,
the old machinery hums once more;
promise blooms beside the flagstone
though we all still doubt the score.
And ordinary people ask a question
governments dislike the most:
if all this spending builds such strength,
How come so many feel so broke?
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25 May 2026