An Infidel Threw A Shoe At An Ill-Begotten President Poem by heather chernen

An infidel tossed a shoe at an ill-begotten president
And a hyprocrite won votes from Americans who never voted before;
They were black, and so was he,
But there the resemblance ended, for hate is hate and bias is bias
Be it by hate-impelled blacks or whites the same.
This is no longer a country for the moral;
It is a place for those whose propensities are ill-definied
and where liberality reigns, not morality,
It is difficult for some to understand the worth of the strong;
The silence of the humble,
The wordlessness of the responsible grey shapes not in vogue nor
Represented, in this our country, at its terminus, unmourned
For the good don't cry and the worst scream madly
In solemn air, while the world goes with our moral code,
Nothing of worth demands attention;
We were the world, this country, that degraded flag, every heroic man who
Died protecting it, stands as
I do, whether dead or living in abject silence
While obscenities and abnormality reigns upon this earth.

When I die, I will have had one country,
A republic founded upon law and which was tyrannized, torn apart
Till even the shreds have no foundation:
Oh, in passing, a hypocrite in black skin is only a hyprcrite after all.
That flag still rises in my mind's eye, I degraded beyond all who, in the end
Was the last of the red hot Americans.
I can only say, weekly, weekly,
As my sister before me:
I believed in this country.... I did not believe in God!