It is a somber, sober day:
The clouds hang low on mountainside;
The leaves have danced their last ballet;
Last night I finally lost my pride.
 
Not pride, like hubris, in myself,
But pride in country’s wisdom shared.
In shock, like a forgotten elf,
I saw the country unprepared:
 
Unprepared for what’s to come,
For foreign martinets to take
The states nearby, while we stay mum.
The White House will apply no brake.
 
The President will blame a group:
Elite insiders, or some folk
Who can’t defend and can’t recoup,
Whose freedoms he will then revoke.
 
And if the Congress intervenes
And moves to stop the president,
Executive commands are means
By which he’ll govern sans consent.
 
And in two years, the mid-term vote
Will see him say that “I alone
Can save us from official bloat!”
Great threats he will to us intone.
 
And so he’ll want some special pow’rs
To overcome those in his way,
And there will be enough kowtowers
To let him have e’en yet more sway.
 
Or might some say we’ve had enough?
Our institutions yet will see
Us finally arise, rebuff
The cult of personality!
 
Through history, there have been those
Who’ve wanted to o’erthrow the state,
And they have done so without blows
By claiming to bring back the great!
 
We’ve heard enough of that this year!
Let’s prove how great we’ve always been
And publicly keep dreams so clear
Our actions rise above the din.
Lawrence A. Jones
Bristol