Ode To An Out-Going Dictator Poem by Arbi Mchiche

Hey Mr. Dictator
"Get out, get out" people shout
Gone are the days we were devout
We've had enough of your washout
For years, we waited
for a way-out
Day in, day out, we expected a fair share-out
But longer and longer the years turned out
And many poor souls you did take out
And you even thought us unable to sprout
Nay, Mr. "d*ck-less traitor"
Your funny rules people are beginning to flout
And of like your scum
We're decided our country to shake out
Now, we have courage to spit it out
Get out, get out, get out! !
If our shouts haven't yet reached your hangout
We're sorry, but you must get the f*ck out!
An end will surely have your news blackout
And too soon over will be our blackout
You may be sure we'll never rise from our burnout
But surer we are to win the bout
Because the fire within you'll never put out
Till you're out and completely out!
Hey Mr. Dickless-traitor
Won't you understand and leave your hangout?
Tell us, how long will you stay in your hideout?
For closer and closer is getting your knockout
And sooner or later you'll be kicked out of your
hangout
Sooner or later you'll be no more than a dropout
Taking part in neither our blowout nor cookout
Don't you see you're quickly fading out?
Sorry, Mr. "Dickless-traitor"
But your reign has been a f*ck*ng sell-out
So "Get out, get out! " the people shout