Send in the Clowns
Wimbledon's coming and the threat of rain
Seems set upon returning as I write
And, though an optimist, yet doubts remain:
The R.M.T. are spoiling for a fight,
Combined with public sector strikes. I fear
This summer's not a one we'll long remember
And, as for 2012, another year
Has still to go till I can be a member
Of that mass who'll say, “I told you so!”
When our Olympics are a huge disaster.
Why do we British think we only know
How best to do things, as we hurtle faster
To play our part as clowns on the world's stage?
Do you wonder why I rant and rage?