Used and abused, I am worn
I stay here then I am thrown
Dethroned from the table where once I sat
Now I am just a rag to pat the poo
And that’s a fact.

It must be dark
out here in the cold penumbra,
where mile after mile
no one smiles,

dots and loops,
dots and loops,
a kind of blissful nullity,
beautiful and pointless,

wearing at the edges
it almost stings,
seclusion unraveling
at the underground in us all,

aubade aberrations abound,
challenging the orthodoxy
of the troublesome
morning road,

but should this near-life experience
hydroplane toward
another mineshaft, it helps to know
less is less, not more.

I have a plan
Yes it may be unconventional,
But as a fan
I assure you its success will be intentional.

Most of you may know me
My talent feted shore to shore,
With puppets real as all can see
Talking, singing and much more.

I know I have a skill
And the will to use it right,
Some may say a magic pill
A potent weapon that can bite.

Now that I'm finally a Star
I need embrace the social causes,
No longer propping up the bar
I'm great at mimicking the poses.

One such thought that came my way
To help the old man pull it off,
It's for me to do and say
While he covers with a cough.

I can crouch behind the stand
Prop him up as best I must,
Work his head with my free hand
With experience I'll adjust.

All dear Joe needs do is focus
Read the screen and move his lips,
They won't know that's it's all bogus
That I've written all the scripts.

Only this way can he win
As my famous mates all say,
A little magic is no sin
If I get him through each day.

Should he stray I've got a treat
An ice cream cone well in his sight,
Only once his tasks complete
Will I let him take a bite.

I'm a patriot as all can see
I'll move mountains to beat Trump,
If Joe's to win it’s up to me
And if he flags I've got the pump.

I know I'm slightly losing it and Jill sees that now too,
So all we can but hope for is to Bluster and to Woo.
What If I sometimes falter with names or something more,
Only Fox is bent on keeping that lame and pointless score.
The rest of my fan Media provides me with great flak,
While I air my inner Irish and repeatedly attack.

As to the clueless voters I truly feel for all,
I quietly do get them, as the choices do appall.
Trump is but a cannon with a worn-out rusty bore,
Little in the barrel spraying mayhem aft and fore.
And to my friend Kamala, words truly don't suffice,
But no-one of sound mind would want to roll that dice.

So what are we now left with that possibly makes sense,
To getting people voting and off that dreaded fence.
I'm quite the only choice if truth be clearly told,
Despite the fact I'm quirky and obviously quite old.
Thank goodness for the knowledge my team will see me through,
I bless HIM every night for this weird creative crew.

They tell me what to say whenever I might need,
Have me practice all **** day to show that I can lead.
It's a challenge for them all but what about for me,
I’m sure it’ll be worth it in the end as you will see.
And while this plan unfolds I’ll keep a low profile
Speaking ever less as has become my style.

There is one thing that worries me far more than I would care,
Jon Stewart's now resurfacing with his weird confounding stare.
Throwing comments like sharp knives as a rapper from the hood,
And jabs like some street **** with a blistering left hook.
I’m asking my top people to rush him off the air,
The answer that I’m getting is pretend he isn’t there.

None of this a problem, the story of my life,
I cherish a good brawl and every dose of strife.
Abortion is my ticket with progressives by my side,
This alone will stem the frothing MAGA tide.
Just watch me now perform with my wily stash of tricks,
For if Trump is made of Teflon, I’m made from Scranton bricks.

I'm sitting pretty biding my time
Staying real quiet towing the line,
For President Biden, that lovely old man
Playing the game as only I can.

Why make loud waves, somehow act up,
When everything soon will fall in my lap,
Quiet will do it, with a giggle or two,
Hold my cards close and see this thing through.

Joe barely knows and doesn’t much care
When all he can muster is the 50 yard stare,
Once a great man now just a shell
Hell of a shame he can't hear the bell.

Time is my friend for as every week passes,
The closer I get to those fawning masses,
Cheering me on as I take our great oath
Sealing my path, cementing my growth.

Joe's a mere tool I’ll use till I'm ready,
But it needs to be soon as he's ever less steady,
Have him beat Trump, that foul mouthed buffoon,
Then on to dear Joe who shan't be immune.

The Media will gush, but just for a bit,
While I contentedly wait and quietly sit,
One gaffe way too many, they'll call for his head,
And here am I ready to jump in instead.

Madam President, sure has a ring,
A fine tune Beyonce will conjure and sing,
As to the fact I wasn't elected,
Who cares if it's me that must be selected.

For those that once doubted my
inscrutable skills,
It gives me the goosebumps and even the chills,
I socked it to Hillary and ******* the great chump,
So call me Kamala, the Queen and a Champ.