Once upon a time there was a worthy black man –
One who many supported to take on the task
Of preparing this young nation for a new age.
We The People had spoken. This has caused much rage
Among those white supremacists proud to unmask
Their grotesque ugliness because they’re better than…

Masterminds were the Russians who planned an attack
To the heart of our functioning as a free land
Where hatred is allowed but not criminal acts.
It’s ok though to find ways to single out blacks
To inflict harm upon them. They must understand
That the law is a needle within a haystack.

So, the nation was hijacked. For four hellish years
Daily we were inundated with wicked lies.
Psychic tension unyielding had become the norm.
Turning on some device to another shit storm
Of outrageous behavior became not so wise
But not knowing leads to aggravation of fears.

The orange one-term crook loser still has much control
Of a grand old fart party and all whites who hate.
My black heart is awakened to uncivil rights
That demand exaltation of all the land’s whites.
It’s not likely to happen. What wrath lies in wait
That will swallow this nation and blacken its soul?

Storytelling is commonplace post the disease
That infected this nation and did it great harm.
Those who lose are sore losers and act like children.
The orange rump is now god among wicked white men.
Can the story have an ending where we disarm
Once again like what happened back in the sixties?