Opus # 45 Epitaph of an American Traitor
The genius of the Founders lay
In words they were wont to say
And in the those they so eloquently wrote
As they turned from Monarchy to Democracy
For an America they perceived on the autonomy of
… one citizen, one vote.
But look yonder… over there
And behold the decorative vault of a traitor
A non-yielding dictator
Fueling and refueling… the cauldron of hate
An Evangelist of Dissonance
His historical fate… a Stalin fist of a White Supremacist.
Trump’s dance with history is forever sealed
As the majority of America knows…
And, as our Senate… 57 to 43 shows
Number 45 is fully exposed in the dark shadows he straddles
With the same indelible mark of endless shame
As he who bears that infamous name…
Donald Benedict Arnold.
