The Kevin said he’d lead the band!
Be strongest man in all the land!
But when the traitors came to slay,
The Kevin hid then ran away.
The Kevin blamed the Trump that day!
But soon, it seemed, he flew the coop!
To Florida to eat a scoop.
And there he pledged to be a wimp.
For coups and couscous be a simp.
For nuts & guns, he’d play the pimp.
And now he sits atop his throne.
He reaps as sown; his cover’s blown.
He brags that now he leads the band!
When really he just pounds the sand.
The saddest man in all the land.
Pretends to power; total slave.
And here’s the really foul deprave:
By wanting all the power for him.
The Kevin’s just a shadow limn.
There’s nothing left of what was him.
A rootless rot upon the land,
He opens gate for treason’s band.
So bent upon his bid for power.
He lost it all in shameful hour.
The joyous tune has turned note sour.
Bereft of honor, truth and heart,
Robotic role – a walk-on part.
The words upon his lips are dust.
As Putrid speaks, so Kevin must.
His mettle now just rotted rust.
How the Nightingale Learned to Sing
Beware of Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing
petersironwood 