Inklined

Rub a dub dub,
three men in a tub
are crossing the sea
for democracy
They paddled for miles
to the British Isles,
only to find
obscured states of mind,
awaiting them,
berating them
for dangers at sea
We've pulled the plug,
so,
down with a glug,
go,
refugees
wanting bedsit keys,
babes in arm,
fleeing from harm
Economic escapees
looking to appease
economic instabilities
The bombed throngs
who've done no wrong
Oh no
simply looking
for a booking
on the P and O.