John's gone, he's gone
and I'm forlorn.
The unemployed must cope
without his scorn.
Workers smile
and bosses frown,
why did the voters
let them down.
Eleven long years
of blood, sweat and tears
have given way
to workers' cheers.
Bennelong voters
so it seems
exceeded all
my wildest dreams.
@auth poem = John Tomlinson
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