A poem by Peter Hicks called "THATCHER"
I don't know who Peter Hicks is. I'll try to find out.

Every spiv, speculator and de-regulator,
Every swindler and twister and thief,
Every ruthless exploiter and unscrupulous employer,
For just a brief moment felt grief.

Each commodities peddler, every crook money lender,
Every shyster who lied and misled,
Every crook hedge fund broker, every fat cat and joker
Shed a tear now that Thatcher was dead.

Every ponzi scheme maker, every bent futures trader,
Every wide boy, wheeler and loan shark,
Every bastard uncaring, unfeeling, unsharing
Just this once felt a twinge in their heart.

While the media wankers, sucking up to the bankers
Span a fabric of lies mixed with hype,
They might think that they rule us but they really can’t fool us,
We remember what those days were like.

For us no enjoyment in the mass unemployment,
And the millions thrown on the scrapheap,
The dreadful fear then that it would never end,
A society down on its knees.

Now some of us are dancing, celebrating and prancing
We sing and we chant and we shout,
Others content make their joy evident
Just by raising a mild or a stout.

But she’s not really gone while her ghost lingers on,
And the powerful still dance to her tune,
So together we’ll fight now to win back our rights now
And it won’t be a moment too soon.

(Span, sic)

Addendum 15th April: Thanks to Anonymous (Chris?) Peter Hicks is now identified as an Australian folk singer and song writer. He has a website.