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Brent Kincaid Jun 2015
Sing a song of slick men
Pocket full of lies.
Four and twenty fat cats
Terribly unwise.
When the truth was spoken
They don’t even try.
They’re immune to reason
And they get all the pie.

Sing a song of no sense
And how they persevere
How they get elected
Year after year
Still they have no scruples;
Ethically impure,
They still win out in the polls.
Why is still unclear.

We should build a big fence
And lock them all inside.
Then impound their fortunes
Wherever they hide.
Let them see for sure how
Crooks we can’t abide.
See if they can stand each other
Living side by side.

Sing a song of statesmanship
Nearly gone extinct
Senators and gangsters
Not so distinct.
The rich still had their millions
We lost the kitchen sink.
Brought us all to near defeat
And pushed us near the brink.
Sing to the tune of the old nursery rhyme about four and twenty blackbirds.
Brent Kincaid May 2015
See the Republican,
Hop, hop, hop.
Hack up the welfare laws
Chop, chop, chop.
See him getting wealthy,
Shop, shop, shop.
Watch all our forests go
Drop, drop, drop.

Teflon coated Republican,
Crook, crook, crook.
Put him in a prison cell,
Book, book, book.
Fine him for every dime he
Took, took, took.
Check out his finances,
Look, look, look.

Hear the Republican,
Lie, lie, lie.
Selling out constituents,
Sigh, sigh, sigh.
Writing up new voting laws,
Cry, cry, cry.
Cutting breaks for all the rich,
Why, why, why?

Smell the Republican,
Stink, stink, stink.
Defender and a patriot,
Wink, wink, wink.
Master of the magic trick,
Blink, blink, blink.
Hater of the common man,
Fink, fink, fink.
The latest in my line of infamous Worsery Rhymes. More are on my blog.
Habits
Gluttony
Greed
Bribery
Lustfulness

Passed down
Generation
After generation
After generation
After generation
Okay, I get it, it get it
You get it, you get it.

Let's get personal
Born set up for failure
My statistics not looking bright
First baby born of color born into
A family of strictly whites

Grandmother beat my mother
When she discovered
The life forming inside of her
Was half black -
Don't cry mother, or I'll whither
Inside of you.

I grew and grew
Taught lies upon lies
About myself
The other half of me.

The only love I knew was of my mother.
There was no other -
Until she started to take it out on me

Habits
Passed
From generation upon generation.

She was sick and tired of being
Sick and tired
Stomped to the ground due to her
Kindness
Abused emotionally due to her
Selfless-ness
Mistreated physically due to her
Weakness
She took it out on me.

Cornered me to a wall
Choked me up
Laughing - she couldn't get enough
Of the amusement of my pain
All done in vain
Because she couldn't stop the strain
Put on her brain.

Scarring my face
Pulling my hair
Public places
Not a care -

Kicking
Scratching
Pulling
Biting
The agony
The hate
The battle wounds
The hurt
The scars -
On my heart.

Habits
Passed from generation
To generation
To generation

I was sick on the inside
My heart - suffering -
never ending bleeding
My brain
Psychologically ill
Flashbacks
I locked myself up in my room
Head in pillow
Screaming louder than your annoying baby sister who throws her unnecessary temper tantrums

In the middle of the night.
I tied myself up mentally
Stuck
Self-hate
Self-abuse
Self-hurt

In the sixth grade I to myself -
I wanted going to ****
And my victim was myself.
Filled with the poison - I was ill
Injected with self-hate
Hated my family
Hated all my traits
Hated all forms of humanity.

Habits
Passed
From generation to generation
To generation.

— The End —