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Click here4/11/2016 poem@published
Greedy dirty face old Buzzards
Look at them, perched & hoping, hopping, for the next rigged presidential elections.
Hoping & haunting, the entire network crowds,
They calmer & salivate at the hopes of returning to the White House into a once corrupted fog,
They trifle & hiss at any real progress they deplore,
Nefarious, spiteful, cruelty, they adore,
Insidious & uninsightful,
As it is pure chaos, they all spore,
Always reveling in mayhem,
As they are pure putrid, to they're very cores,
Are the legions, of deranged followers,
As semblance of old folk lures,
For it are the ogre's, trolls & goblins of their retches,
The relative scourge, of this once great planet,
They have become airs, to there sorry own apparent,
And as next November comes and they're filthy
Rheins are treating to fall,
Here go the hordes of more Buzzards,
Promising to smear feces & excrement on it all.
Written by,
Everett C Borders jr. Ph.D.