VISION-ARISE
"Hillary moments" accrue every day
revealing her primordial way;
as she sits on tufted chair
raised high, is there any there there?
The First Woman (bobble-head,)
bobble-less, could be taken for dead:
her bulging eyes, their frozen glaze,
can haunt one's dreams for nights and days.
Upon her acutely barren throne
she sits, completest if alone;
can one's poor eyes, just two, believe
all these years to misconceive.
Gravity finished any joy
she might have had with Billy Boy;
so cool, leftover, dusty pearl,
less appeal than his homely girls.
How she clings
to the dream s
she can't weave,
while peers from her team
beg her to leave.
Desperate, losing dignity,
she has lost all her "class;"
she reads her speeches;
if she ever talked,
she'd talk about her ass.
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