The Ballad of Number 45: Four Long Years

It’s hard to know how the country

Survived having to spend

A four-year term with 45.

I thought it would never end.

 

Four long years of scandals;

Fours years of anguish and grief;

Four long years of fatuous tweets,

With little if any relief.

 

Four long years of a slogan

To make America great.

And yet the president seemed much more

Preoccupied with hate.

 

Four long years of hearing

Constant words of praise

For Vladimir Putin and other strongmen

And their autocratic ways.

 

Four long years of watching

His sycophants kiss his rear

And be afraid to tell him what

He didn’t want to hear.

 

Four long years of lies.

The number hasn’t been topped.

And though he is out of the White House now,

His lying hasn’t stopped.

 

Four long years of observing

Extremists in his base

Become so extremely emboldened that

An insurrection took place.

 

Four long years of feeling

As though we were swimming with sharks,

For he loved tearing people apart

With his nasty remarks.

 

For four long years we heard

Constant “alternative facts,”

For one of his guiding principles is

Anything that distracts.

 

Four long years of our lives--

Unrecoverable time.

If voters decide to give him four more,

THAT will be a crime.

 

-by Bob B (8-3-21)