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Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
I remember your final goodbye
On that very last painful day
I immediately got started
Throwing all you gave me away.
I remember thinking that we were
Never what I thought we were,
Otherwise something like this
Would never have occurred.

There was no argument or fight
You just came home a changed person
And I am sure you thought you were
Letting yourself out of prison.
No more pained looks on my face
When you came home too late.
No more suffering through life
You felt was second or third rate.

No more sneaking around on me
To have ****** dates on the side.
No more inventing lies about
The many times you have lied.
Now you never have to worry
I will see the guilt in your eyes.
No more worrying that you will
Slip up and I will get wise.

Part of this is my fault, it’s true.
I should have gotten to know
The person I thought so much of
So blindly, not so very long ago.
I thought I could make you love me
And fix all your character defects.
I ended up with more of my own.
One-sided love affairs wreck.

I’m crying now, but maybe soon
I will take this all as a lesson;
Start taking people for who they are
And no more second-guessing.
I chose you based on how you look
So others would think I have got
Something going on over here
That means I am special, and hot.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
He was a bull goose ******
And he always was to begin with
So how did you get in the groove
To think he would improve
As if electing him to office would
Turn him magically good?
No matter how much we booed
This country is now *******.

And the sad thing is that many
Had to stay home for this *****
To get to win the whole race
Instead of being put in his place.
So, now are facing the possibility
Despite all reasonable credibility
Our fine and beloved old nation
Is facing humiliating obliteration.

Those of us who have survived
How our country got so swived
That it has taken nearly a decade
To clean up the mess Dubya made
Know this sense of fear and outrage
We felt in that scary bygone age.
We know terror is back once again
To drown us in that same fen.

It is spooky and amazing
The swath the GOP is blazing
With their hatred of common folks,
Their slurs and ****** jokes
All aimed to ****** freedom
By spouting lies they call wisdom
While millions of fools believe crap
All unaware their rhetoric is pap.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
Asking the Congress to rewrite laws
That benefit and enrich themselves
Is asking the wolf not to eat the lamb.
The wolf will eat the lamb.
The lamb cannot avoid this fate
By pretending it is not worth eating.

The wealthy are well rewarded
For not caring about the poor.
To make them care the only way
Is to offer them  tributes.

The rich want you to buy
Their trinkets and toys
And leave the lawmaking to them.

As long as we let the rich
Write the laws and control
Enforcement, the law
Will be slanted in their favor.

Nothing fuels fascism like poor people,
So the rich will raise prices and
Thus keep the people poor.

Dishonest people will always
Blame someone else for their crimes.
In government, they will blame
Honest people trying to do the job
They were elected to do.

If a person fails to be outraged
At the actions of criminals,
He is either criminal himself
Or a defense attorney,
And that person may be
Both at the same time.

Among the biggest mistakes
One can ever make
Is believing campaign promises
Where no evidence exists
Of any plan to keep them.

As long as politics are run
Like a beauty contest,
Nothing like democracy
Ever has a chance to succeed.

In a democratic country,
The common people must
Expect to participate
To make it work.
That means they must work
Within the system to ensure
All nefarious people and laws
Be discovered and thrown out.

Undefended rights are only
Privileges grudgingly by government
Dispensed as alms to beggars.

In a representative government,
Everyone must be a representative.

Yesterday is a terrible day
To plan to fix things.
Today and tomorrow
Are the only time we have to do it.

If a representative
Does not walk his talk,
Stop listening to his talk
And watch his walk.

Do not expect industry or military
To protect your rights.
They are both monetary institutions
Addicted to power.

If Congresspeople earn fortunes
By serving the people,
There can be no equity
In representation.
Corruption will rule the land.

Lobbyists should be imprisoned
if they are indistinguishable
From extortionists.

Voting districts need to be
Based on the needs of the people,
Not the needs of the bank accounts
Of our leadership.

Offshore bank accounts should be
As illegal as they are immoral.
(As this is all my own opinion, there will be more at later dates.)
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
You’re two-way traffic
On a one-way street
I get a bit of sugar
But it is not so sweet.
You go and you come
But I’m here to stay.
You may or may not be here
At the end of the day.

You’re a true free spirit
You will hasten to say.
You’ll always come back
Just maybe not today.
You tell me to trust you
That you are coming back.
That’s so hard to believe.
You have no bags to pack.

You make only promises
With your body and your smile.
That only lasts a little bit
The scariest piece of a while
And fails to keep me warm
While you have gone away
To express your freedom
And to revel in your play.

You’re a wandering stranger
In a game made for friends
I fail to count any winnings
When the game finally ends.
I’m sure the game I’m playing
Is quite different from  yours.
It has you in the playground
And me in doing chores.

You’re two-way traffic
On a one-way street
I get a bit of sugar
But it is not so sweet.
You go and you come
But I’m here to stay.
You may or may not be here
At the end of the day.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
Miss Agnes Columbus
What are you doing?
What is your calling?
What path are you pursuing?
Your mother wants a teacher
Your father wants you married.
Poor miss Agnes Columbus
Now wonder you are harried.

Miss Agnes Columbus
What are you doing?
What is your calling?
What path are you pursuing?

Unlike famous Christopher
You don’t travel in the world.
You stay home all the time
And set your hair to curl.
You read all the magazines
And know all the styles.
What makes you happy Agnes?
What makes you smile?

Your mother wants a teacher
Your father wants you married.
Poor miss Agnes Columbus
Now wonder you are harried.

You write inside your diary
That nobody ever reads.
Your mother and your father
Doubt where it will lead.
Whoever will hire a poet,
A creator of hidden rhymes?
You are not Emily Dickenson
And this is not olden times.

Miss Agnes Columbus
What are you doing?
What is your calling?
What path are you pursuing?
Your mother wants a teacher
Your father wants you married.
Poor miss Agnes Columbus
Now wonder you you are harried.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
When I wiggle, wiggle wiggle,
People giggle, giggle, giggle.
In the middle, middle, middle,
I'm not so little, little, little.
When I jump, jump, jump,
My big old ****, ****, ****,
My rear end ****, ****, ****,
Goes bump, bump, bump.

Once skinny as a rail
I’m more like a whale.
Because of what I did
Ever since I was a kid.
Any old kind of candy
To me was simply dandy.
Follow me around and
I’d eat it by the pound.

Mom would bake, bake, bake.
By belly would shake, shake shake.
I couldn’t flounce, flounce, flounce
My gut would bounce, bounce, bounce.
Now I’m round, round, round,
To the ground, ground, ground.
I eat just like a pig, pig, pig,
That’s why I’m so big, big, big.

Once skinny as a rail
I’m more like a whale.
Because of what I did
Ever since I was a kid.
Any old kind of candy
To me was simply dandy.
Follow me around and
I’d eat it by the pound.

When some say diet, diet, diet,
I reply to them quiet, quiet, quiet.
Every time I try it, try it, try it.
My body doesn’t buy it, buy it, buy it.
So i just live for lunch, lunch, lunch.
I love to eat a bunch, bunch, bunch,
And I have a basic hunch, hunch, hunch,
The same will go for brunch, brunch, brunch!
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
Poor old Clarence Posey
His neighbors are so nosey.
They peek in through
His windows and
They catch him wearing hosie.

They don’t come in
They just stay out
They stay judgmental;
They scoff and pout.
They have no pleasant
Words to say.
They run through all
Synonyms of gay.

Pity Clarence Posey
His neighbors are too nosey.
No matter which
Fabric he likes to wear
They dislike what he chosie.

It isn’t like
They dress themselves
Some way that could
Be seen as flattering.
They’ve guts and butts
Like barnyard stock.
To see them naked
Would be a shock.

Poor old Clarence Posey
His neighbors are all nosey.
They’re nothing but
Awful aunties
That catch him wearing *******.
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