Tuesday, April 22, 2025

The Newspaper

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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