Some claim they don't do politics,
Cos it's a game of dirty tricks,
That powerful people try to fix,
I guess that much is true.
I too can see what's going wrong.
The same sad singers — the same sad songs
That leave no space for me and you
To feel that we belong.
But if that leaves us in a rage,
Which makes us choose not to engage,
We leave for them an empty stage
To tell tall tales too short on other points of view.
So I beg you not to turn away,
Please know your value to the fray,
A dirtier game if you don't play
But fairer, if you do.

This is a call to arms for lefties inside or outside the Labour Party — myself as much as anyone. It can be so hard to engage between the bureaucracy of the party and obstructions of the right. But if we want to see real progress we have to remember there is no justice — except that which we fight for — just us.

Poetry on the Picket Line is a squad of like-minded poets putting themselves about to read their work on picket lines, in the spirit of solidarity. Invitations to rallies etc. welcome, contact facebook.com/pg/PicketLinePoets