You Must Be Joking

I got an email this afternoon from Julia Gillard, asking for my support to help Labor win the next election.

I penned this little rhyme in response, if it stirs you at all then please share.  


A whisper sweeps this wide brown land,
flowing as it goes
from angry ear to angry ear
the whisper slowly grows

It tells of farmers strong and proud
that have chose to leave the land
not from drought or flood or bank
but from their own hand.

It speaks of dried out carcasses
littering the land
created not by drought or fire
but by government cattle ban

It speaks of politicians
in inner city seats
stabbing farmers with their pens
for constituents, that hate the taste of meat.

The whisper speaks of scandals
of barefaced carbon lies
of taxes on the air we breath
and slush funds with intimate ties. 

It speaks of debts and deficit
of our countries finances looking sad
while the charlatans point to the rest of the world
and say, "at least we're not that bad."

The whisper spreads across the country
like ripples on a pool
gathering strength from ear to ear
the whispers on the move

By September it will gather strength
the likes we've never seen
the whisper echo's through the people
like the cyclone gathers strength at sea

On and on the anger builds
the whisper becomes a roar
across smoko sheds and kitchen tables
the anger levels soar

When you stand before your ballot
and the vote is yours to cast
hear the whisper in your ear
and put Labor last

I care about our farmers
and I want agriculture to last
I swear I'll do the right thing by them
and put Labor last.