08/02/13
A POEM: 44 THE MYSTERY MAN
by Nathaniel Grant
Forty-four is the mystery man: he's called the President,
He never goes himself, its his men who have been sent.
Guns that shouldn't have been sold, cross the border they did go,
Fast and Furious, to drug cartels, in good old Mexico.
When a border agent got killed, leaving a family in despair,
Neither the Attorney General, nor Forty-four seemed to really care!
The President, the President, so where was the President?
On September 11, 2012, a date we won't forget!
Protection was not an issue for the Secretary of State,
And Secretary Panetta didn't reinforce the gate.
The War on Terror was over, that's the line that he would take.
Blame it on a movie, even if that's a big mistake.
Is the President against religion, should praying be a sin?
Will the Federal Reserve print money, and give it to his kin?
Can massive government spending really save the day?
And increasing taxes on the rich, so that they will have to pay?
When the teleprompters working, Forty-four can talk a lot
And if there is a scandal, he's NOT Johnny on the Spot.
Let's not forget the IRS, and the targeting that they make,
And when Congress asks the questions, the Fifth they'd like to take.
If its a 501(c)(3) you are filing for, then depending on your goal,
You may get answered quickly, or they drop your papers in a hole.
The President, the President, there's no one like the President
Liberal media's boy wonder, how much better could it get?
If there's a whiff of scandal, he can get away,
Las Vegas or South Africa, those are places he can play.
He can blame the Tea Party, for the riots that they cause.
While the Occupy Wall Street kids, get his firm applause.
Is sequestration or castration, the answer to no budget?
Close the parks and blame the Congress, that's how he will fudge it!
There's no money for White House tours, but he can fly away.
And find some sunny place, rounds of golf are fun to play.
The President's great education, his records have been sealed,
And in what backroom politics, did his cards get neatly dealed?
He leads this great nation, from behind is what some say,
(But just between you and me, I think that's really gay!)
Mr. President, Mr. President, are you really proud?
Standing like a Monarch King before a dwindling crowd.
Is the bloated government finally going to pop?
As the numbers of real jobs, go towards a fatal drop.
Forty-four have you given thought as to your great legacy?
Who will stand to give you praise, as you exit gracefully?
Dear Forty-four, Mr. President, one last comment I shall make.
The great Affordable Health Care Act, was it a big mistake?
Will the people really stand and cheer, or lay dying and simply curse?
And who will be there mourning, when you are in the hearse?
------------------------------------
source
A POEM: 44 THE MYSTERY MAN
by Nathaniel Grant
Forty-four is the mystery man: he's called the President,
He never goes himself, its his men who have been sent.
Guns that shouldn't have been sold, cross the border they did go,
Fast and Furious, to drug cartels, in good old Mexico.
When a border agent got killed, leaving a family in despair,
Neither the Attorney General, nor Forty-four seemed to really care!
The President, the President, so where was the President?
On September 11, 2012, a date we won't forget!
Protection was not an issue for the Secretary of State,
And Secretary Panetta didn't reinforce the gate.
The War on Terror was over, that's the line that he would take.
Blame it on a movie, even if that's a big mistake.
Is the President against religion, should praying be a sin?
Will the Federal Reserve print money, and give it to his kin?
Can massive government spending really save the day?
And increasing taxes on the rich, so that they will have to pay?
When the teleprompters working, Forty-four can talk a lot
And if there is a scandal, he's NOT Johnny on the Spot.
Let's not forget the IRS, and the targeting that they make,
And when Congress asks the questions, the Fifth they'd like to take.
If its a 501(c)(3) you are filing for, then depending on your goal,
You may get answered quickly, or they drop your papers in a hole.
The President, the President, there's no one like the President
Liberal media's boy wonder, how much better could it get?
If there's a whiff of scandal, he can get away,
Las Vegas or South Africa, those are places he can play.
He can blame the Tea Party, for the riots that they cause.
While the Occupy Wall Street kids, get his firm applause.
Is sequestration or castration, the answer to no budget?
Close the parks and blame the Congress, that's how he will fudge it!
There's no money for White House tours, but he can fly away.
And find some sunny place, rounds of golf are fun to play.
The President's great education, his records have been sealed,
And in what backroom politics, did his cards get neatly dealed?
He leads this great nation, from behind is what some say,
(But just between you and me, I think that's really gay!)
Mr. President, Mr. President, are you really proud?
Standing like a Monarch King before a dwindling crowd.
Is the bloated government finally going to pop?
As the numbers of real jobs, go towards a fatal drop.
Forty-four have you given thought as to your great legacy?
Who will stand to give you praise, as you exit gracefully?
Dear Forty-four, Mr. President, one last comment I shall make.
The great Affordable Health Care Act, was it a big mistake?
Will the people really stand and cheer, or lay dying and simply curse?
And who will be there mourning, when you are in the hearse?
------------------------------------
source
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