Bullets

I was Chairman of the Branch

At a time of Industrial unrest

Management and union relations

Weren't exactly at their best.

He was good at making bullets

For other folk to shoot

And during the ensuing furore

He'd remain completely mute

With a calm and neutral smile

Fixed on his smooth face

As his bullets hit home 

Causing chaos in the place.

And when the fights were over

And all returned to a neutral state

He was still smiling because 

He'd remained everybody's mate. 

Peace  back in the Union Branch

But I never knew just when

That charming little member would

Start  making little  bullets again.