The leak that mattered, by which, understand,
Is meant the leak exposing his mistakes,
At last had happened. Ronald owned no land,
No assets tangible or other. Lakes
Of debt, forged paper, empty safes, all these
Were what he had. The world thought otherwise,
Of course. His friends, to bully and to tease
Had propped him up, averting all their eyes
From signs that pointed to his lies. But now
His pauper-hood had earned him a new name:
They called him Set. But he still had them. Wow!
He should retreat, perhaps, into his shame,
But he had two more years left in his term.
Those voters, they still had a lot to learn.
Fourteen rhyming lines of pure pulp every day in sonnet form. A different genre every day of the week! All sonnets by Kate Sherrod. Look for the first volume, coming to print in 2016!
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Satire Sunday: Too Late
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