Memories can be painfully funny... poor GW, poor us. Written March, 2003
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Ode to G.W.… How must it feel to first incite? To be George Bush with martial might? There’re few of us to truly say; For we fall victim as his prey To spewing mouths upon the breath Of he who dictates life or death. Oh, no, I speak not of the Lord Who has the final, full accord. I speak of he who rules our lands; Our shores for which world freedom stands… Ah, nay, do not be full of calm As we live in an age where bombs Can burst upon the whims of fools Who lack the sense of useful tools. Oh woe is he who cannot see, Who’s blinded by the guarantee To be recalled in times yet past. My God! The ego he’s amassed! All hail to thee our mighty chief Who shows no inkling of belief In words like honor and respect. His ways show careless, rash neglect. Hey, George! Remember you? We will. As fondly as a sour pill That gags our throats with seizing pain. You’ve placed upon our lands – a stain… You make me fear how far we’ll stray Away from ethics we convey Of promises made long ago By forefathers who did bestow Our rights with freedom’s worthy cause To ALL! We need to stop! Take pause… I beg you, Cowboy Bush, get off Your saddle where you push and scoff At those you’ve deemed unworthy foes. You’re stepping on some dodgy toes. The world has labeled you a pig. We’ve watched you dance your haughty jig As lives are lost within your grasp. Come, tell me, George, what can we clasp To feel safe within our homes? - For those who pray within the domes Want justice for what 'they' believe. Your actions, sir, have NOT relieved The growing hatred in the world Toward us. (Such accusations hurled!) You’ve made us sullied in their eyes, With foul behavior - fetid lies. You think yourself above the law Of righteousness - a frightful flaw… How startling is the world of late. We can’t maintain the brutal weight Of men of stature such as yours! Most curs-ed are your unclean wars. I think what words might line your grave, I know one missing would be – brave. For it takes gallantry to lead… Upon your headstone it should read: Poor ol G.W. had the chance To heal the world and thus advance Us all into an age of peace – Where war and hatred might then cease. Instead he chose the brainless path Where mighty egos plan their wrath Around their smug and foolish days. You failed us, George. Let’s count the ways… |