To The President

Rating: 5.0

How best a president, without a sceptic gear
How best a poet, without a laurel near
But two things there, hope in the standby
And gave thou confident, until death follows-by
For such president, while there days were bright
they sit, lynch the masses one by one under sun light
And to such poet, writing before having meal
For licentious readers choice are not even real
whom should my muse then fly to?

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