Tuesday, 31 January 2017
Dear Theresa: a poetry post
My Instagram feed is full of protest marches I'm not on, and I feel like I'm letting the side down. Truth be told, I don't want Theresa May to cancel Donald Trump's visit to Britain, and I don't see why the Queen would be embarrassed, she's kind of used to dealing with powerful bigots. However, I hope that Theresa is challenging Donald's policies, I hope she considers them when she is in trade negotiations. I hope Boris was right when he said that Britain would not quail from voicing differences, even if they are voicing them in private.
Anyway, with Trump sticking by his hateful policies and getting up to who knows what else while we're all reeling from that, with hate crime in Quebec, and with Peter Capaldi leaving the TARDIS, I was feeling pretty hopeless last night, so I wrote a note to dear Theresa:
I know it's hard when your friends disappoint,
and you want to keep what you had,
but Theresa, he's not the same.
He's not the man he used to be.
I know that you've changed too
and the friends you have left are few, but be careful
who you hold on to.
If your closest friend decides that there's no room
at his table for those that need to eat
then think twice before inviting him for tea.
Perhaps you are right not to drop
to his level, refusing hospitality
Perhaps you want to throw a party
inviting those he's cast out
to share the board?
Theresa, you are brave, but you should know
if you do not challenge his cruelty to others
you prepare for his cruelty to you,
and worse, if you appease
you risk the guilt of complicity.
Ⓒ Cara L McKee 31/1/17