Iron Lady – Margaret Thatcher Portrait Painting
A Poem about the Iron Lady
Tear stained midnight and the bitterest Champagne bottle
congeal at the walls of my right to buy house?
Of a dull shades of mining ghost towns
that makes unemployment no more
with its stationary flow,
went unions in mist?
An iron hand and a hard desire
closing the vicinity
you see wasted and hopeless
your friendship was a kick filled with rambunctious empty opportunity
you burn headlong into a night to preserve your power
A iron promise is not enough to sustain me!
From the land of your hard epiphany.
You pacify headlong into a picket to blossom your funeral
the fleeting sourness gave it felicity.
Whose right have they gave to party?
With no miners with the right no more.
You do not degrade in the universe of humanity
the lava based mourners are ignored.
The ice verdure sympathies are abolished.
Always you petrify through the midnight
toward the early cold light of day
Pure politics plays the droplets
the fatherless school that flies in your silence!
The difficult circus that develops in your former nation
pacified and then returned in the ground.
And you rustle like an old warrior’s medal.
Ding Dong for their hero.
Angel of the able.
You eternally divide and conquer!