Well...Hopefully....Next Year Poem by James B. Earley

"Sung to the tune of: Send In The Clowns"

Man's filthy rich
....The billionaire
Poor folks...stuck here...on the ground
Air Force One in the air
....Inside.....there's a clown

Sane folks are pissed
Bitterly disapprove....
Of one who keeps tearing America down
...That's...apparently...his grove
God....what a clown
...Why thus then....this clown

Just when Obama......began opening doors
Along came the demon...that face...it was yours...
Making your entrance again with your usual flair
....Empty the suit
No one....is there.....

Epitome of farce
...For our future....I fear
Obviously...you want...all that I've got
....That's fucked up....my dear
Damn...what a clown
Surrounded by clowns
....Your Administration...it's clear

He's filthy rich
...Not as much...as it appears
Criminally inclined....throughout...his career
....We've had it with clowns
Rid the Nation this clown
...Well...hopefully....next year