Poor George Poem by George Hunter

There once was a guy named George
Who wintered at Valley Forge.
He never thought that one day
Everyone from here to Bombay
Would celebrate George Birthington’s Washday.

Later he made a lot of speeches
To all those Tory leeches.
Got elected as our first
And turned out not the worst
And dined on cream and peaches.

Although he was the Father of Our Con-tree
He suffered from the old ennui.
So for something to do
He told Martha adieu
And jumped from a tall tree on a bungee.

Franklin asked him to abort
But he said, I’m really a sport.
He made a big sound
When he hit the ground
‘Cause his bungee was not too short.

So they scooped up his remains
And hauled him around on some trains.
Put him on display
After he’d passed away.
How we wished he’d of had more brains.

Guess he was past his prime
Just trying to have a good time.
Should have taken it E Z
And just sat watching the T V
And that’s the end of this rhyme.