We felt like he needed to run our country.
But we were wrong.
My closest friends,
My family,
Had to run away,
Because of
The Orange Man.
And here i sit,
Watching my country burn,
Because of
The Orange Man.
He's going to ruin us all.

By tomorrow,
He'll sit in his throne,
Ruling with an iron fist,
Smiling an Orange grin,
The Orange Man,
The Orange Man.
He's going to ruin us all.

Fall Leaves Fall
by Emily Brontë
<>
Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me,
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day.

<>
the summer visage long faded from caramel,
to a bastardized version of ugly dirt brown,
the streets empty of traffic and the silence
is a sadder shade of lesser peace, the vibrancy
given way to sharper clearer long division disagreement

my worrisome peaks when the trees
denuded, less shelter than ever.
no cover offered, we stand divided,
visible lines of demarcation,
unable to hide, from each other,
unable to hide, from our selves,
the briefer day transits quicker
into night’s decay, and the words
we utter and state,, hollow sounded,
have no echo ability, no resounding,
and we all grow silenced, partly in
shame, partly because partisan words
bring no gain, or the satisfaction of a
response that makes us say ah ha! you see!

the leaves crumble breneath tired treads
and forested footsteps long ago forgotten,
beige dust that the wind swirls, delighted
by its new power to spread its grounded
memories of human interference into
a coverlet of dust

this fallen solitude hurts me, for it is in
opposition to the joy gay screams of children
in to water running, the oohs and ahs, of freedom’s fireworks  gloried colors proclaiming we are “one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all”

A-walking ‘round a stony crag
atop which stands a castle strong:
I know each rock and brick and ****
that went to build it for so long.

My forebears helped to build this place
from its earliest days, just a palisade.
Thence it grew into this mighty space
that would touch the moon by fear unweighed.

The builders began, so constant and brave.
In Godspeed and discovery they came.
Once planted, a flower of May then gave
this rock two pillars of its fame.

Today it shines out far from its hill up high,
unhidden citadel of radiant beams,
reposed beneath the starry sky
while white and red roads to it stream.

Four hundred years — or thousands more —
has it took to make this fortress fair
at great cost to those who came before.
The scent of their toil fills the mountain air.

Yet this great rock is now on the verge
of toppling into the abyss below:
For those who claim it must be purged
now storm the keep with torches aglow.

Now there’s fear this fateful fortress will fall
to the whims and rage of a dishonest beast
who claims to just want to save it all
but will only lead to its defeat.

These castle walls shall not be breached
by the demons it once bred within.
The people who still build it shall reach
new vistas to the beast’s chagrin.

The world watches.
They hold their breaths
as the ballots are cast-
a responsibility and gift
not to be taken
for granted.

One more quadrennial,
one more election.
One more dawn,
one more day.
One day more and
we turn a page and enter
one more chapter of history.

It’s time for the people to form a decision
Just see how they struggle to hold a position
With lines in the sand
They can all take a stand
In a loose coalition of bold opposition

A fork in the road.
Will it stab me like a knife
or spoon feed me joy?

I've been American dreaming...a slumber of days untold.
American dreaming...a longing for the days of old.

Because old dogs can't seem to stop turning tricks and the lotto's been called again but I still haven't won my picks.

American dreaming of days of the past where bad things were common and women wore masks.

Of smiles and deceit to hide their fate from the men with knives who swore they'd made the pain fade.

Away to the future where "******" run amok, and the ones elected to "save" us couldn't give a f---.

Yes, I'm American dreaming, of a place welled up with pride, I'm American dreaming as we **** ourselves from the inside.

In a place screaming "Freedom" as we duck and run to hide.
The abyss pulls us closer as we put our trust into those who've lied,

to save their skin, because we only back the best...
I'm American dreaming...but I can't seem to get no rest.