Some people feel this may be true,
Some people now, are feeling blue,
Some people want to enslave Some people,
'Four More,' determines, Sickle, or Steeple.
By Arley Steinhour 011213
I haven't had a thing I could say,
For way too many a New Year day,
I've tried and tried, fingers were tied,
Hovered over keys, but verse, denied.
Today, I'll start with a complaint,
Must do something, lest I faint,
The news has been, Prophetically bad,
Reading it first, it made me sad.
Today, this being Sabbath day,
Perhaps the News went out to play,
I'm waiting here, to hear you speak,
Needing strength for news, next week.
The President renews the Office Oath,
Two Bibles used, swear on one, or both?
The hullabaloo on twenty-first, one day late,
He'll foreswear in Private, on twentieth's date.
A question, then, comes to my thought,
If one is official, which one, aught-not
On Monday he uses two well known Bible,
If Sunday, official, is Monday Triple-Liable?
Monday, I'd think, be more, a 'Photo-0p,'
Pomp and Circumstance, to make traffic stop,
Beautiful music, all day, Shore to Shore,
Wining, Dining, and Gala's Galore.
Can't say I'm delighted, more like I'm sad,
The feelings I'm feeling, prophecies something bad,
Night dreams, like Eve's Apple, rotten to core,
For now, I'm bemoaning, his rule of, 'Four-More.'