even if you had a single thought
beneath that golden toupée,
i wouldn't pay a penny
to hear you stumble
through a sentence.
you're grasping at straws
as you spew your vitriol,
peddling snake-oil—
a reality TV show host
floundering amidst the shipwreck
of a failed state.
impotent
bottom-feeder,
you have no power.
you're digging a deeper grave
with every single syllable.
another salacious scandal
to bury you alive.
fascist, your days
are numbered.
no pasaran.
we will rise like lions
after slumber,
unvanquishable.
you're bound to lose.
cower, racist coward.
if only your ignorance
would die with you.
your days are numbered.
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 10:46 AM UTC
even if you had a single thought
beneath that golden toupée,
i wouldn't pay a penny
to hear you stumble
through a sentence.
you're grasping at straws
as you spew your vitriol,
peddling snake-oil—
a reality TV show host
floundering amidst the shipwreck
of a failed state.
impotent
bottom-feeder,
you have no power.
you're digging a deeper grave
with every single syllable.
another salacious scandal
to bury you alive.
fascist, your days
are numbered.
no pasaran.
we will rise like lions
after slumber,
unvanquishable.
you're bound to lose.
cower, racist coward.
if only your ignorance
would die with you.
your days are numbered.
Request permission to use this poem