A Poem to Celebrate the Birthday of CART
The Cyclists, Anglers, Ramblers Trust
The first year has been and gone, in the twinkling of an eye;
with many special events arranged, one even to say goodbye;
reliant Robin has deserted the nest, now set for pastures new;
like a bat in the night without a care, as off into the dusk he flew.
A whole new charity status, is portrayed as the better way;
to make the charity work, the public's pockets will have to pay;
furry little water voles and newt, have first call upon their cash;
maintenance budgets are now, the first item to feel the slash;
Environment agency waters; eyed to boost the now flagging fund;
the minister had second thoughts, guess who it was - was shunned;
the future looks ever bleak more grim, and more money is being lost;
high court cases with expensive briefs, and no one to count the cost.
Bankside no one walks the cut, to check for leaks and breaks;
water passing through leaking gates, is enough to flood a lake;
new graduates know what's best, and wait for things to fail;
the ones who really knew, were the ones who walked the trail.
Promises to go away, were made by chairman hales;
a chink of light for the future, but 'twas all to no avail;
but he continues to linger on, and to procrastinate;
to lay waste too the future, is this to be the fate.
The bottom is getting much closer, and soon will be at the top;
this will bring the whole charade, to a slow and shuddering stop;
commercial cruiseway and remainder, will it ever matter then;
as boats sit on the bottom, for the canals it will be amen.
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