April 17, 2018

When you're righteous

And you just might

Be full of sh-

-ifting ideals,

Campaigns can be the rage,

Recruitment via pitchfork

And a tale

Full of emotion and fury.

I have stood in my field

And beckoned you with my tongue.

Bring me your diseased soul

And load your wrath on my back.

Hear my pitch:

-----------------------------

You can't take me out of the smear.

I'm as present as atmosphere,

as predictable as the fear

That I use for war I declare.

I simply just need to recruit

All you who once were in dispute.

Know that any ill repute

Will be forgiven to execute

The campaign on which we embark:

The rejection of old remarks,

Relations once so clearly dark,

Traded in for mutual snark.

--------------------------------

I can take the bitter,

The runts of the litter,

The common everyday quitter,

And send them all a-titter.

There is no smear without an ear

So easily ensnared,

The holier-than-thou mutineer

Sacrificing what he holds dear.

We simply must strive to beguile

Those soldiers willing to defile,

Openly attack and revile

All that they once called worthwhile.

God, this is not my first campaign.

We are organized to maintain

The battleground we must attain

Before we break out the champagne.

------------------------------------

And in the end

The ground we upend

Will bear no more, my friends.

To home I will descend.