A Manned-Up Dhimmi

Recalling days of Bush-filled hate,
When words of lies without refrain,
Filled my screen from Dhimmi’s brain.
There was no pause of silence irate;
The hate was constant like April rain.

I did not cry, I did not whine,
But attacked the logic of his detest,
With slams of joy amidst words of jest.
Now silence comes from Dhimmi’s mind
And so it is with those thus obsessed.

One does not dare attack the One,
Who gives us hope and unity.
For in his arms we will be free
To hate and lie about his pork-filled bun.
Just wait he says and you shall see.

I write this poem in hopes to see,
A manned-up Dhimmi standing tall;
And writing logic in words that fall,
Within the concepts of liberty.
Alas, I fear his brain’s much too small.

His liberal brain does not accept
His messiah’s words to be opposed.
As truth steps on his mind so closed,
His silence cries forth as thoughts inept,
As the truth is thus for all exposed.