Post Portia Blues

The laborites are up in arms ....
The journey was long, the battle grueling but finally The Rt Hon Nose Holiness has made it to Jamaica House.
I hear drums beating in the distance as I lay in my sturdy bed.
Is that a marching band I hear?
Either damn way I do not care. I gwine still haffi post mi bahind to Golden Circle Plantation and chop my share of sugar cane in exchange for my monthly rations.
My blood is neither green nor orange and my loyalty lies with the few who can tolerate my quirks.
And so I continue on my journey as I always have.... diligently counting my pennies and memorizing my budget like a Bible verse hoping things get better but know shit could get worse.