The Night Before Hatemas

Twas the night before Hatemas, in every Scots house,

Not a transphobe was stirring, nor even a louse,

Ribbons were hung, on fences and pillars with care,

In hopes that soon playground monitors would be there. 

The TRAs were snuggled, all cosy in bed,

While visions of online pro formas danced in their heads.

My mum in her dotage and I in my ward,

Scrambling brains attacked by the hordes.

Outside in the street rose such a clatter

I dashed out to see what could be the matter

Their eyes how they twinkled, their faces so merry,

Until they read the words of our brave Ms Cherry,

Now, Patrick, now, Lorna, now Ellie and Beth,

AC-H, Kaukab, Alison and the rest,

Mind our Rev Stu and all his hard work,

He’s ticked all the boxes, he ain’t no jerk;

A wink of his eye, a twist of his head,

Counsel’s opinion, nae need to dread.

When Scotland is free, there’s nae need to whistle,

 Hate Crime Act flies off like down fae a thistle,

And Scotland will cry as it’s kicked out of sight,

Your hate crime act is nothing but shite.