Why are you fighting, why do you foam
What are you fighting for
Why petted pout and tetchy tantrum
The slamming of all open doors
Has someone pained you with their lying
Stolen your toys or treats
Why crocodile tears, the threat of more crying
The stamping of petulant feet
Who has affronted, who has offended
Sensibilities, pride or your dress
Or have you broken fences that cannot be mended
Grow up now and own up, confess
Have you hurt your friends, insulted their name
Been a bully, a braggart, a pest
Are you really culprit and won’t take the blame
Have you really tried what is best
Why are you fighting, what is your cause
And who are you hurting the most
Where common sense in all that is lost
Your brain in meaningless boasts
Time to reflect on the nature and meaning
Why no friends now come to your door
Why are you fighting, what are you fighting
Just who are you fighting for
scottishmomus 
exasperation in full-on display
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Definitely, Paul. I teach seven year olds who have more common sense and self-awareness. Mind boggling arrogance. Just listening to BoJo add flames to the fire. Beam me up.
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Quite simply, a pure gem of a poem. I understand every sentiment therein.
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Thanks, Mike, I thought you would. I’d offer May and her crew a good skelp on the arse but I’m afraid it might be enjoyed, given the masochistic undertones. Then again, how much will they be hurt by what is proposed? Sadists, more like.
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Nicola to the rescue! On the one hand the glorious damage she could do; on the other she could make your land a special place.
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I’m definitely for the latter, as you know, Mike and don’t relish the damage ahead. The damage limitation bus, though, has passed the terminus along with that other one promised. Like the child up yonder ^^^ it’s May’s way or no way by the sounds of things. I’ve got my jacket on.
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It may sound outlandish, yet Scotland may be the key not just in finding its destiny, but also in holding Europe together and, by default in many aspects, keeping the lessons of history alive and well in what was once, and always had been a war torn landmass!
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It’s almost like you felt that they cared. I’m sure the government and their cronies will all do well even if the rest of us remain underfoot.
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No doubt of that at all, Chris. The doing well part, I mean. Caring? Not a bit of it. Good skelp on the arse they’re needing. Spoilt rotten.
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Would that it might work!
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😃 This is one piece of an advice as Why and How to fight for.
Or
Not to fight for silly reasons.
Damn it!!!
😀💓🙋
Shiva
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My youngest is 7. I love that age. She comes home so excited. My oldest is 15, and the dark clouds rain on our parade. Regularly. Long time no chat. I hope all is well in your world.
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Adults who act like children upset me much more than children being such temper tantrum throwers! 🙂 I started as a middle school teacher of 12 year olds but ended as a special needs preschool teacher. I joked and told friends, “If someone is going to stomp their feet and swear at me, I prefer it to be a 3 to 5 year old!” 😀
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Temperamental kids I deal with day and daily. Adults of the same ilk, I’ve had to. I’d prefer that government officials were above that sort of behaviour.
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