It’s the same old faces at all the races

scribbling and scratching and watching

over their wards, who threaten to reciprocate

over cake and lashings of tea.

But those older, bolder and increasingly colder

guardians and shit-givers are left standing,

demanding aid whilst the promises fade

and a word of thanks remains a word.

A world of difference between doing and doing

but in the long run the sacrifice does not come

from those who toe the line and post a time

but those that would, and could, “but…”

It’s the same old faces at all the races

scribbling and scratching and watching

over their wards, who threaten to reciprocate

over cake and lashings of tea.