They must have misspoke
To say it’s a joke
Or did they take a ****
Of some strong smoke?
They’re giving him cover
Like he was their brother
But they’ll soon discover
What they can’t recover

Once they’re in  ruins
Like the Boston Bruins
Based on their congruence
Or undue influence
They’re under his spell
So the lies that they tell
They try their best to sell
May they all rot in hell

They’ve sold their souls
Just to reach their goals
While assuming their roles
They’re climbing greased poles
So they’re going down
Like a circus clown
In a dirt mound
On a playground

They must have misspoke
To say it’s a joke
As if we’re not woke
Once the trust is broke
But their loyalty
Is misplaced as we see
So if you’re asking me
They had best let him be





         Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019.  All rights reserved.