REMPLOY'S DEMISE

REMPLOY'S DEMISE

Once I had a job working on the line

It was a living and everything was fine

Then Liz Sayce grabbed the Tory bob


Which threw thousands of us out of a job.


Working at Remploy meant I wasn’t poor


And it kept the bad wolf away from my door


It put food on the table and paid the bills


As well as helping me to develop new skills.


Although the work didn’t always stretch my mind


And sometimes it felt like more of a grind


Yet the camaraderie, the jokes, the craic


Made up for any humdrum, as I look back.


In wage talks our steward’s knew their brief


Knowing any stitch-ups would end in grief


So all offers went first to the shop floor


If a rep bypassed us, he was shown the door.


Then MP Margaret Hodge decided to have a go


Describing Remploy as a workplace ghetto


A warehouse for crips to congregate


To while away their time, and to vegetate.


The very notion that we were segregated


In workhouse conditions now antiquated


Couldn’t be further away from actual truth


Her comments made without the burden of proof.


If Remploy workers were late in the mornings


The management would issue written warnings;


Like other workers we grafted from eight to four


And on the bell we were straight out the door.


But it wasn’t only MPs who wished our demise


The big charities also eyed up the Remploy prize


Damning factory life with lies and distortion


In the expectation of grubbing their portion.


When finally, the factories shut up shop


The craven charities were caught on the hop


As there was no pot of gold, no fat dividend


All they were left with was a reputation to mend.


This is, sadly, a tale of betrayal and of woe


For Remploy workers who felt the cold blow,


Abandoned by Iain Duncan-Smith’s DWP


Brought about by Sayce’s perfidious decree.


So if you ever come across the Judas Sayce


Remind her that she’s a fucking disgrace


For consigning so many people to the dole


Just so she could achieve her selfish goal.