Boris Johnson waffled,
his way to Number 10.
But once he’d arrived,
he bumbled and bungled,
coz he’d not a single ken!
He watched as Britain burned.
He fiddled like Nero of old.
And all the waffle and cavil,
could not resurrect the dead
he had spurned!
His repudiations of improbity were lies,
wrapped up in a web of deceit.
Ten centuries of courage he’s wasted,
Britain a joke on international retreat.
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