BogRhymes

The plan is out,
Stinks badder than hell.
Is that part of the plan,
Get immune to the smell..?
No talk of strategy,
No talk of recovery,
No thought, full stop,
Just thuggery.

The talks have broken down,
Time for plans from Mr. Cowen.
Forget your scowl,
Forget your frown.
Use your head,
Or lose your crown.

The Glass workers,
At least take a stand.
The furnace, it must be kept lit.
There are fires going out,
A cold snap in the land.
Some, more than others, show grit.