Washing linen hung out to dry,
He said she said they said lie.
Secret meetings, lawyers told
Bitter feelings, dinners cold.
A nation waits, each facebook post
Dismembers a man cherished by most.
Where there’s a will, there is a way
Where there’s seven wills, there’s much dismay.
So what to do beyond huff and puff?
The house still stands, but that’s not enough.
Damp creeps up these cracked grey walls,
There’s no foundation beneath us all.
Looks like it’s on to the next season of House of Shards.