Hillary Clinton Craps on my Dreams of a Glorious Trump v Sanders Debate
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Twas the night before Christmas and up on the Hill,
All the creatures were scurrying to pass their midnight bill.
The gifts to certain states were all written in ink,
The kickbacks and greed made all the ‘rats stink.
Meanwhile, Americans were nestled all snug in their beds,
Visions of Christmas joy dancing in their heads.
And Palin in her kerchief, and Joe the Plumber in his cap,
Had settled with their families for a long winter’s nap.
When out on our lawns arose such a clatter,
Americans sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.
Away to the windows we flew like a flash,
Just in time to see them all with their midnight stash.
The bright moon above displayed for all to see,
The crew taking our presents and even our tree.
To our saddened eyes a little bespectacled man there sat,
On a sleigh made of gold, pulled by his ‘rats.
With a haughty smile, his lips curled in greed,
We knew in a moment it must be Senator Reid.
His business in our town now near complete,
He shouted the ‘rats names to urge their retreat.
“Now Lincoln, now Bayh, now Levin and Baucus!
On Nelson, On Landrieu, on, on, our ‘rat caucus!”
“To the next village we go! The next town to steal!
We must hurry to take their Christmas Eve meal!”
As the ‘rats scurried about, they took time to stare,
A country in ruin, but they didn’t care.
More adept at stealing than the greatest of thieves,
Money could be seen falling from their coat sleeves.
And, then with a cackle and a robber’s crow,
The sixty ‘rats pulled their loot through the pristine snow.
Off to the next borough or a little known parish,
Power, greed, and the time to be garish.
So, tug and pull, the ‘rats moved inch by inch,
Senator Reid looking more like the midwinters grinch.
Our Christmas lights now dimmed and our presents fewer,
The ‘rats slunk their way down the street side sewer.
When they were gone, and the snow began again to fall,
Americans wondered “what had happened to us all?”
The country we love and our liberty had just been taken,
But, then . . . just then, we started to awaken.
Take our presents, Senator Reid, and think you’ve taken them all,
But know this, America’s greatest present comes next fall.
Hurry! Take your power and money and the loot you tote,
But, neither you, nor Pelosi, nor Obama can take our vote.
Senator Reid and Boxer and Schumer have now left,
And on Christmas morning, they will celebrate their theft.
But, the ‘rats joy will be short lived and quickly turn sour,
Knowing their days are numbered, soon to be out of power.
So, as we lay our heads back down to rest in our bed,
Remember, America’s future is as bright as Reagan once said.
So, Rise up Christmas morning! Lift your voice and sing!
What joy! What joy next November will bring!!