I’m tired of the newspaper,
Defeated and
ashamed,
For story
after story features
He-who-can’t-be-named.
But even
worse, the toadies
Who bow down
and kiss his toes
Are gloating
with their power
Which nobody
will oppose.
We’re headed
for disaster
Yet it’s
difficult to care
Because the
news assures us
That,
already, we are there.
Our nation
once was mighty,
Opportunity
did shine,
But that’s
the case no longer
Since nobody
has a spine.
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