It happens to be that time again, where all the loved up people get all mushy with their sentimental I love you's. Just like Christmas though, there are no doubt some people who have a distaste for all that jazz.

So here's something I do every year, and that's write a poem that's not in the least bit mushy or about loving someone, but it is pretty UK centric:

Hey, how ya doing? Nice to have your support
You're in on the ground floor I'm glad to import
A brand new prodigy, a rapping sensation
Spitting truth at a rate that outpaces inflation
With rhythmic oration I'm laying tracks in the booth
Should've used my hands though, shouting at nails is no use
Laying it out like Shayne Ward, yo this is gonna be handsome
Directing the youth from gangs and onto Esther Rantzen
Showing them hey, guys there's no need to boast
Truth is real beauty and you can spread that on your toast
The track's finally finished now I can record the words
Who's got the piece of paper with my list of verbs?

Read the exciting conclusion on Just Let It Flow. it contains an actual verse from the song, the video shoot, Loose Women, Cricket, a brilliant pun or two, a non-surgical replacement for bum pumping and that old favourote Aesop's Fables.