i had faith in you.
i loved you.
you were my home.
i believed we were meant for great things.
but instead of making us great again,
you'd rather make us hate again
so all my faith,
all my hope
is lost.

Wiggy doesn’t mean it is a wig
Just that it looks very like one;
And the hairdo is so ludicrous
That we can’t help making fun.
You act like an adolescent
Your orange hair is almost funny.
You utter the most inane things
Your disposition totally not sunny.

Wiggy little piggy, is what you are
As you ludicrously strut about.
You make yourself a laughingstock
From your hooves up to your snout.
You spout a bunch of garbage
High on the ignorance scale
Like you bought it all half price
At a dollar-store basement sale.

Snort and wiggle, grimace and scowl
It’s quite the side-show carnival show
You open your mouth and let fall out
Words that prove what you do not know.
Grunt and wallow in your own mud
Holler, howl, bellow and squeal
As if the lies you are telling us all
Amount to something valid and real.

Wiggy little piggy, is what you are
As you ludicrously strut about.
You make yourself a laughingstock
From your hooves up to your snout.
You spout a bunch of garbage
High on the ignorance scale
Like you bought it all half price
At a dollar-store basement sale.

So far, you are making yourself
Totally beloved in the Sainted South
But to most of us you would look
Better with an apple in your mouth.
You **** and moan and pontificate
And spout such bigoted wit
That the best place for you is
Guest of honor on a barbecue spit.

Wiggy little piggy, is what you are
As you ludicrously strut about.
You make yourself a laughingstock
From your hooves up to your snout.
You spout a bunch of garbage
High on the ignorance scale
Like you bought it all half price
At a dollar-store basement sale.

You made me hate you.
You must love to do it,
You’re acting like you knew it.
You made me hate you.
There’s really nothing to you.
You’re loathed by all that knew you.

You are disgusting sometimes
And times you’re worse.
You really need drugs and
A doctor and a full time nurse.

You always lie so
The truth seems to evade you.
It’s like the devil made you.
I wish you’d just frack off.

Gimme, gimme, gimme
What I long for
A better kind of behavior
I can’t write a song for.
You know you made me
Hate you!

Omigod, Donald T. ****,
You unconscionable creep,
You are disgusting enough
To cost us all sleep.
If lies were US dollars
You sonofabitch
You would truly be
Obscenely rich.

It’s not enough for you
To have gold water faucets,
Crystal mirrors everywhere
And marble floors in closets
Now you want to play at
Being a savvy politician
Stands for Christian principles
From the *******.

Omigod, Donald T. ****,
You unconscionable creep,
You are disgusting enough
To cost us all sleep.

With a changing cast of women
You call your lawful wives.
And you’re the one who wants
To control our very lives?
You utter your vituperation
At poor and the non-Christian.
Is having the world hate you
Part of your final mission?

If lies were US dollars
You sonofabitch
You would truly be
Obscenely rich.

You also want control of
Our country’s financial hopes.
If we fall for that stupid tale
Then we are a nation of dopes
Because you have bankrupted
More than the Monopoly game
Would allow a toddler to have
And that is quite a shame.

Omigod, Donald T. ****,
You unconscionable creep,
You are disgusting enough
To cost us all sleep.
If lies were US dollars
You sonofabitch
You would truly be
Obscenely rich.

No, Mr. T **** please do
What is proper and fitting;
Call up the press and say
That you are finally quitting.
Tell them you were just testing
To see what the others would do.
So, kiss our collective ***** goodbye
And take with you that dumb hairdo.

You aren’t going to see me cry.
You aren’t going to see me cry,
not because I am not crying;
But you can’t see Me cry.

Some little boy has been stuck,
timeless and drifting through the
pre-war era’s of space -
Playing with plastic toy soldiers…

Don’t think that because I am eloquent,
don’t think that because I have gumption;
that I will spare you at the expense of myself.
I won’t over time
                               or ever more.

I will not be an expense to any man.
I set the price of my love: and it’s giving.
I hope it’s the same for you,
along with Reciprocating.

I will not be the daughter
                                              of lies
                                                           for comfort.

If you think that there are things in the dark,
then speak your truth and walk your talk.
Be brave.

A subscription for thoughts that you don’t want
is worst than death.
Better to ask the questions
and put your faith to the test.

I will not be a crushed lily under your thigh.
Though I may bruise, I heal myself with time.
I choose to turn towards the inventory of imagination.
I choose to wrap these arms around myself.
I choose myself in all my self-destruction,
because loving you and me is worth it.

Yes, it burns.

I will not run from my origins
even when you run away from me.
I will look at my ghost with her pockets.
I will look to see the day and it’s green hues.
I will acknowledge that sunset when it calls me…
Because I am worth loving.

You can’t take the thickness of my cry,
not because you don’t carry a handkerchief.
But because you hide behind the lies
that keep the blade in the sheath, tied.
A little girl is lying somewhere,
in her soiled sheets and I stand
besides her as she begs me to leave.

Somewhere these two children exist,
crying and playing with me.

Now we are all gown ups
and it’s easier to look away then to start
because the truth is that judgment is easier
                                                                            then crying.

Judgement is safe like not crossing enemy lining -

You won’t see me when I am crying.
Because you see all of the faces of the people;
who left you there dying.
While I am Rectifying.

You won’t see me, all of this raw treasure.
All you will see are;
plastic toy soldiers
and soiled bed sheets to render.

You won’t see me the other girl in the mirror,
whose world went shifting
because she couldn’t see the same missing tears.

You won’t see the youthful adolescent
who was happy to see her face drifting.

You won’t see that young girl who woke up
without a nose to breathe in the morning.

You won’t see the girl who ate dirt,
because she wanted to see if she was living.

You won’t see who begged for forgiveness.

You won’t listen to the voices she's heard on her journey…
and you will not have cried those first tears of her own self-birthing.

You will not have lived in the wilderness for months on end.
Sat still for days as you listened
nature - until your scars had mend.

You will not have watched my face in that mirror,
of a girl turning into a woman,

whose virginity was stolen

and who now defines
her own sense of defining purity = growing.

No, you won’t -
Because that’s my story.

You are in yours.

With your own actions and darkness,

I am just someone who plays a role.

I choose to be free in this moment.
I am me, and I choose to be free.
With all of my expressions of sin,
lust, defection…

I choose to see the truth of it all,
because that is the definition of perfection.
When the little boy can live without fear,
and when the little girl can see herself
standing next to him in the mirror.

Whispers in the air from a forgotten dream,
a world with no options left, disappearing into obscurity just to escape from all this.
Monsters do exist, I've seen them.
Bigots know their place with select souls available, a social desolation.
The world I see changed, but unchanged....
With old ghosts kicking down the door.