A wry no-sir-opoulos:
Saint George Papadopoulos.
Support from the populace
Enhances the obvious;
To frame him seems frivolous
The plot grows ridiculous
The slander more bellicose
Delusions wax grandiose.
Fake News tried to topple us
With George Stephanopoulos . . .
Evil Drumpf Hitler, worse than Watergate . . .
Orange Man bad— ’tis their hour to impeach!
Colluding, they rush to regurgitate
Nonsense from their last non-candidate’s speech.
Accusations and trials. It’s quite a show.
He’s guilty, so guilty, of serious crime.
They’re not sure of what, but he HAS to go.
(Their permanent peeve is our circus-time.)
Through dark lenses, opthalmologically:
They can hate on our optics; we won’t mind
Our magic glasses allow us to see
With twenty-twenty vision . . . but they’re still blind.
Empowered and impaired
they conspire to impeach.
That Bad Orange-man, spared
still remains out of reach.
If impeachment was due,
now it rots in the the sun.
They’re attempting a coup
when no wrong has been done.
Over-ripened, it’s rotting
their maggots now fly . . .
unfruitful, their plotting:
a low-hanging lie.