In the aftermath of the general election it is reported that Jeremy Corbyn has a plan to increase the minimum wage for sixteen to eighteen year olds to £10 per hour.
So Corbyn very nearly won,
Because young voters thought the sun,
As I’ll now try to rhyme and parse,
Shone all the time out of his arse.
The reason really is quite clear,
For he had given them a steer,
That uni fees would all be scrapped,
At which young people were all rapt.
With other things on offer too,
Made to the many, not the few,
So many people would cash in,
That they would likely vote for him.
But since he lost he’s got a plan,
That every teenage boy or man,
Should have their hourly rate increased,
To ten pounds, doubling it at least.
“So vote for me! You’ll be quids in.
All this is true, it isn’t spin,
And money for this higher rate,
Will be paid by the ones we hate;
The ones you always ought to boo –
That’s not the many but the few!”
So Corbyn in his power grab,
Makes out it will be really fab,
With everybody due a treat,
Once he’s installed in Downing Street.
The upshot, though, is that these yobs,
Will all be priced out of their jobs,
And Corbyn’s plan will be complete,
When there are riots in the street.
So let your watchword be ‘Take care’,
When you’re assessing Corbyn there,
It’s better you’ve a job than not,
So kick him out – he’s just a Trot!