Twas the night before Freedom Day, all through the House

Not a Tory was maithered, not a one having doubts.

The sanctions were left far behind without care,

In hopes that Immunity soon would be there.

The MPs were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of shaggable aides filled their heads.

With Boris was Carrie — with Gove? Heaven knows!

In Parliament these days it seems anything goes.

Then from social media arose such a clatter,

They sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.

Away to their keyboards they went in a flash

(Except Robert Jenrick, who went for a slash).

The timelines on Twitter held worrying thoughts

That Boris and Rishi had not done what they ought:

It seemed that their pilot was naught but a ruse

Their subsequent U-turn was hogging the news.

With a terrible shiver, the PM felt sickened

He knew in that moment he looked a right dickhead.

More rapid than eagles his sycophants came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now, Javid! now, Jenkin! now, Metcalfe and Mitchell!

On, Collins! On, Coffey! on, Dorries and Bridgen!

To the Beeb and GBeebies! Take the clarion call!

To Good Morning Britain! Now dash away all!”

As thistles blown hither and thither by gales,

The minions all scattered by road, air and rail

And into the breakfast news studios they flew

Battalions of Tories, and Fabricant too.

And so, in the twilight of dawn, on TV

The prancing and fawning of every MP

Was heard by the nation: a tissue of lies

Not one question answered, to no one’s surprise.

With practiced deflections they blurred every line,

Reputations now tarnished were reckoned to shine

This bundle of Tories had Boris’s back,

And were peddling shit from a bottomless sack.

Their lies – how they twinkled! their similes how merry!

Their stats and conclusions all picked like a cherry!

Their droll little slogans delivered with smirks

You could tell that they figured the audience for berks

“It’s all about Freedom,” they cried, “No more rules!

But please all be cautious, you credulous fools!

Enjoy being maskless! Gather in numbers!

But still remain wary you negligent dumbass!”

“Now you must act responsibly, on that we depend,

As you queue up at nightclubs to dance with your friends.”

And with that jumbled message they gave a free pass

To the likes of that bloke with a flare up his arse.

It didn’t make sense, could it possibly work

This reliance on nobody being a jerk?

Were they trusting our heath to a run of good luck,

While telling the world that they don’t give a fuck?

Then back came the minions, their dirty work done,

And Boris had words of high praise for each one

They heard him exclaim, ‘ere he dropped out of sight,

“You did a great job for our boss, the alt-Right!”