by Blog Poet

Our ideas and our work are born from a need
to grow amazing fruit, from a plain little seed.
So we graft and we craft to get it out of our brains
into the world where it helps, improves, entertains.

So it’s hard to swallow when told, despite our love and our care,
our idea can’t be sold, ‘cos the budget ain’t there.

A sorry compromise is met by committee design
but integrity drives us to try and refine.
Forced concessions destroy purity, but never our pride;
the vision got lost, but at least we all tried.

So it galls me today to turn on the box
and see a 10ft monster with pink polka dots
immaculately rendered in high-end CG
in a nicely shot ad splashed across my TV.

  • It’s not like I wish that I’d done it; I’ll set that straight now.
    It doesn’t excite me, (despite the bipedal pink cow).
    It’s that while we’re met with a feigned empty wallet,
    these guys can act like they’re making Wallace and Gromit!

    Money’s the point and the subject, so while we’re still on it,
    when I found out how much I swallowed my own vomit.

    Remember those folks at the DWP,
    who said tax credits are safe, if you just vote for me,
    but who lied and who cut, ‘til you can’t feed your own kid?
    They made that ad, for 8.5 million quid.

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