๐ ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐๐๐ซ๐๐๐ ๐๐ง๐๐ฎ๐ ๐ฎ๐ซ๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐๐๐ฒ ๐๐จ๐ง๐ง๐๐ญ
In praise of Joe this poem I have writ.
But Iโll not mention any of his flaws โ
His hair-sniffing, his groping, all that shit;
His keen support for all those foreign wars.
I love him, for heโs opened many doors
For me, a budding poet laureate.
Oh I know old Joe farts โ at times he snores;
But heโll be dead before long โ you can bet
Your house on that. Still, let us not regret
Selecting this frail, barely conscious guy
To lead our fast decaying nation โ let
Him show the way as all the old ways die.
Iโll start again and throw this in the bin.
Iโll write some whiny waffle โ that should win!
โ D.N. OโBrien