A wry no-sir-opoulos:
Saint George Papadopoulos.
Support from the populace
Enhances the obvious;
To frame him seems frivolous
The plot grows ridiculous
The slander more bellicose
Delusions wax grandiose.
Fake News tried to topple us
With George Stephanopoulos.

Let us all imbibe of that cold Yuengling.
(a noble past, a good taste, a nice ring.)
The buzz, even more so—for it will bring
Massive spasmodic leftist tantruming;
Mad hilarious virtue-signaling . . .
Frothing fizzing Trump derangement freaking !

Evil Drumpf ******, worse than Watergate
Orange Man bad— 'tis their hour to impeach!
Colluding, they rush to regurgitate
Nonsense from their last non-candidate's speech.

Accusations and trials. It's quite a show.
He's guilty, so guilty, of serious crime.
They're not sure of what, but he HAS to go.
(Their permanent peeve is our circus-time.)

Through dark lenses, opthalmologically:
They can hate on our optics; we won't mind
Our magic glasses allow us to see
With twenty-twenty vision . . . but they're still blind.

Empowered and impaired
they conspire to impeach.
Bad Orange-man, spared
still remains out of reach.

If impeachment was due,
now it rots in the the sun.
They're attempting a coup
when no wrong has been done.

Over-ripened, it's rotting
the maggots now fly . . .
unfruitful, their plotting:
a low-hanging lie.