I’m not answering the prompt today because it’s been asked before, or at least something very similar.
We had our general election here I the UK last year, I voted Labour to get the Conservatives out, and felt totally betrayed, when Labour did exactly what I hated the Conservatives for.
I read a blog by Prophetic Ties about youths rioting in Kenya because they feel betrayed by their government, It reminded me of this little satire I wrote about our election, and resulting betrayal.
I’m quite proud, because it’s imagery is quite Dylanesque especially the clown on his rusty bike.

The Circus comes to town.

The colourful trucks rolled into town, new management wrote on their sides. No elephants, lions or horses, no carousels or children’s rides

Roll up, Roll up, the new Ring Master cried, acrobats, clowns and side shows. they paid their money, and all filed in, they were duped and thats how it always goes.

Every four years it’s always the same, the circus comes to town. It gets worse and worse every time, led by another useless clown.

A side show with a strong man, lofting weights of polystyrene, .Phyllistra the fortune teller, her real name though is Irene.

The worlds tallest man only five foot two, but looks about eight foot. When seen through a magnifying window, in the decrepit cardboard hut.

It’s just the same in the big top, which in fact is really small., not even high enough, to give the acrobats room to fall.

The clown he rides his rusty bike, there’s no lions wild or tame, I’m not going to the circus no more, I’m not going to play their game.

Words by Meadowhead Bard.