The Blame Game

By Stanley Collymore

A depressing day of its own to start with or simply one

that your own actions have markedly contributed

towards, making it that way? Logically, each

day is basically like a blank canvas is to an

artist and what is ultimately transcribed

on it is significantly the responsibility

of and very much up to the individual concerned. So please,

rather than just instinctively blaming others for what you

perceive has gone wrong with your day, kindly stop,

take a few minutes duration of erudite or at the

very least sensible introspection and then

both seriously and honestly re-examine

what either consciously or otherwise

inadvertently you may have done

in turning this particular day

that you’re moaning about,

or others for that matter

into entities that you

now either regard

as calamitous

occasions,

or else

adversely look back

on with intense

animosity.

© Stanley V. Collymore

10 August 2019.

Author’s Remarks:

This poem – The Blame Game – was inspired by and is specifically written for and dedicated to all the British, so-called Brexiteers – risibly and pathetically delusional as well as seasoned self-serving, convenient aspirants to which ever personally suitable direction they apparently think that the wind is blowing, and the customarily, narcissistic, bandwagon-hopping ones – who asininely deceive themselves that the permanently and rather thankfully defunct British Empire, dead as the Dodo and switching metaphors, is Jesus Christ like about to make a most dramatic, impressive and eternal resurrection and global comeback.

Well dream on and keep taking the pills – if the National Health Service (NHS) or the several doctor’s surgeries nationwide post-Brexit and the NHS’s inevitable privatisation will, without you first coughing up financially for them, let you have them.

What plainly psychologically credulous and easily manipulatively controlled Useful Idiot suckers and patent losers the certifiably, odious bunch of cretins you self-evidently are!