Ooh look! What have we here?
A channel flipping king,
whose wisdom is something to fear,
yet nothing is within,
scrutinise he will do,
without a learned thought,
at those who act on what they grew,
refusing to be taught,
first the news, is on the screen,
his bland opinion thrives,
no real spark for change it seems,
thus, nothing does arrive,
as voting out of habit,
repeats a regime pain,
but, comfort blanket gadget,
will keep him in the game,
he switches to the sport,
where he slips his tongue,
casual racist, is what’s brought,
to someone very young,
in playing captain obvious,
skill cries in the dark,
he remains oblivious,
missing every mark,
talent show he watches now,
where his verdicts stay,
hurtful words, for her in gown,
as her song does play,
“what a fatso!” Says TV judge,
whilst eating all the snacks,
from someone who will barely budge,
thus, brews a heart attack,
after such a grand old day,
he struggles to retire,
as emptiness does strip away,
the warmth of any fire,
that could be stoked with love,
without such spoken hate,
where gutter brain could reach above,
outside his garden gate.