Bruce Bisset: Dear Jacinda, it's not me, it's you - lots of love, Bruce Bisset

Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern, flanked by the "old dog" Winston Peters, NZ First, and the new "puppy" James Shaw from the Green Party. Photo / File

Dear Jacinda, I know you've tried really hard to build a relationship, but it isn't working.

And I don't think counselling will help us.

Which is a shame, because you started out with such promise. Like Barack Obama in the US, you held up a candle of hope for the world in declaring climate change your generation's "nuclear free moment".

But politics is a dubious business, isn't it. Compromises must be made, and in the cut and thrust it's easy to make a compromise too far.

Like Obama, you fell into the real politik trap: having to choose between keeping your allies' support to retain power, and keeping your heartfelt promise to the electorate.

And we all know how that ended in the US. Chances are, despite your best efforts, it will end that way here, too.

Because the old political dog you've chosen to lie down with has seized the new leash on life and is wagging hard-out, knowing it's his last chance to play up – and you have no option but to feed him what he asks.

Whereas the new green puppy your party all-but spurned again is warm-hearted and eager to back your call. But the unionists who have forgotten their own radical roots, and the liberal democrats more concerned with economics, wouldn't countenance giving the pup its head.

Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern pictured after attending a prayer meeting held in Hagley Park for Christchurch mosque shooting victims.

And you were too new to the top job, and perhaps carried too much womanly compassion into it, to strike out on your own course come what may.

I forgive you, because clearly you are a forgiving person and it would be cruel not to.

But that doesn't change the fact the world is dying on your watch, and you are evidently not able to do enough to help save it.

Six months ago when the wheels were falling off the ramshackle train your old dog plays havoc with and your personal mana still shone bright, you might have seized opportunity and called an election to snap the leash.

But you didn't.

Meanwhile the warm-fuzzy green dog was so constrained by its principles it diligently went about trying to achieve consensus on how our part of the world might be saved, even though the result was merely a dog's breakfast – which the old black dog promptly woofed down in one gulp with a sleek denier's grin.

That was the final straw – underlined by you burying the love affair with your big bold promise by chiding the rising tide of folk frustrated enough to call you on your lack of action.

Jacinda, it could have been good, but it's nearly over, now.

The farmers, the bankers, the forestry and roadworks and of course oil companies are all laughing; they still believe they can eat money when the last raindrop falls – and you are doing nothing to dissuade them.

And even though half the people cannot understand how their leaders can ignore the fact the sun is setting on civilisation for the last time, because they have not been told the truth baldly and boldly enough the other half are still busy putting out deck-chairs to watch it go down.

They will thoughtlessly turn blue as hell freezes over, and your epitaph will be brief: had the chance, failed to take it.

I'm sorry, Jacinda. I really wanted to believe in you.

All your grand gestures will bring you this Christmas is a lump of coal.