The inauguration takes place
Of a new U.S. President.
Flying in capitol air space,
During the swearing in event,
Is my carrier pigeon, Hope,
Carrying a small canister
Of deadly nerve gas with the scope
Of killing the whole crowd for sure.
As trained, Hope drops the can on cue,
Striking the brand new head of state,
Breaking open, letting forth spew
A world wide witnessed righteous fate.
As Hope flies away overhead.
The live coverage shows the dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem