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The Blue Route


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August 23, 2017



You promised us you’d make the country great again And that you would build a Mexican wall. You said you’d make America bigly wonderful And that you were the smartest of them all. You said you’d keep the immigrants from coming To take away our jobs and ruin our land. You finally came around to


Oh, frightening times, How do we survive? How do we rise above? How can we contrive To put villains away So they can’t harm again? What words will protect us From these kinds of evil men. Is there a magic charm Or a divine incantation Spoken by some priest Or by an adept magician That


Our reputation never had a chance Since the fat boy did his dance. Here he is to ruin the land! Mighty Mouth’s underhand! He has never had a single clue Not a thought for me or you. He stays surrounded by some total jerks Who always nod “okay” No matter what he says he wants

The Harbinger

I will ride this horse Until I’m shot down And even then I will Crawl along the ground Until I lift my eyes And I can see that right Has won the battle Against greed and might. I will pull myself up Through blood and pain Until not one square mile Of hatred will remain.

To My Fans

I want to write my fans Some more lines about kissy face And beautiful flowers and lakes And rainbows all over the place. But, it is difficult to do today Because I hear a sadder tune. We have elected to take office A few hundred crazy buffoons. They are turning our country Into a place

Broken Promises

I can’t explain Trump by assuming Half of our country was stoned. There must be many more factors Than that one reason alone. A huge part of it must be sloth That so many people haven’t seen Through an election between a Failed businessman and an American queen. All my life I heard it said,

Uncle Jeff

When I was just a little kid Uncle Jeff talked to me About the things people said As opposed to what I could see. He cautioned me to listen And watch people carefully He promised me an education, Just made for little me. Do they walk their talk When no one is around? Do they

Don’t Call Trump

Don’t call Trump a chimpanzee. Chimpanzees can’t talk. Don’t call him a pile of poop. A pile of poop can’t walk. Don’t call Trump an Orange That would be indiscreet. You see, different from an orange Trump is in no way sweet. Don’t call Trump a swindler Take his fat ass to court Because when

They Kill Children For Money

Horrible, soul-less dissemblers Who kill children for money Who starve children to put More money into their banks With secret accounts off-shore And want to make more and more. Too much money to even score Because the books are cooked To let them kill more children For money because they think it’s funny To starve

The Rich Always Survive

One quarter Dumplets One quarter aware One quarter lazy fools One quarter don’t care A huge percentage of voters Pay little attention to facts. We know that because we see They ignore the way Trump acts. They have a list of lies they say To excuse their lack of civic pride. That includes that jerk

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