This Poem was Submitted By: R. Lee Buckley On Date: 2001-01-09 01:55:06 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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A little asp, upon a chair, sits in the Oval Office And loudly cries he is maligned, but opens up his orifice To strike again the passing lambs who succumb to his wiles, While those who might escape his jaws, with venom he defiles. The Capitol is filled with snakes who rattle, coil, and strike At anyone who them disturbs.  All probes they so dislike! They bask themselves upon the works which others have begun, And claim the warmth and light as "theirs"...though it comes from the sun. How do you clean a pit of snakes without the loss of life? The "majority", (who're silent), must quickly apply the knife To cut the ballot - strike them to their very heart - And only then elect good, moral men.  That's where to start! The asp within the White House leads the snakes upon the Hill. They all are moving targets, mesmerizing us until They have us as their victims... easy prey when we're "asleep". You nap at your own peril if it's freedom you would keep!

Copyright © January 2001 R. Lee Buckley

Additional Notes:
Just a little something which came to mind during the "hey-hey-days" of Monica Lewinzski and our soon-to-be "dearly departed" President Clinton. Thought you would enjoy.

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