Soapbox

Oh Dubya!

With sincerest apologies to Walt Whitman., and based on a poem by my amazing son, Stephen

O Dubya, my Dubya! You said you were the one!
You said you’d bring back honesty, but your answers all are spun.
Our children is not learning, our Bill of Rights, just chaff,
And as for our security; oh please, don’t make me laugh.
And oh, lies, lies, lies! They’re all we ever hear!
What will we do? Can’t live with you
As Captain four more years.

Oh Dubya! My Dubya! Tell me, what have you done?
You got us in a war that I fear cannot be won.
Our enemies attack us; our friends all hate us too!
Those weapons, they were never there! Why did we listen to you?
But oh heart, heart, heart; that thing you lack, I fear
I hate to see where the world will be
With you four more years.

The Dubya does not listen, he only gives a smirk,
And suddenly, flipping burgers is called factory work!
He breaks our treaties, pollutes the air, the country’s going broke
Still he cuts taxes to the rich and smiles like it’s a joke.
So if you want a future, the path is crystal clear:
Cut the string! Let the fat lady sing!
Don’t give him four more years!