The P-Word

Ahh, let’s turn now our attention
To the P-word and its comprehension.
You cried about its meaning’s mean,
Never mind on me your vented spleen.

You thought it right and honest told
To call a man, the cuntman bold.
No proof you gave and neither me,
Both these words so truth-free.

With not a thought of being right,
You called the Bush a Hitler fright.
With proof supreme he did not lie,
But to this fact you still deny.

As you forced your hate upon my screen,
You did not care - such a liberal routine.
Insulted by the lies you made and told,
I asked for proof - you went stone cold.

Your mindless drivel got great reviews
From hate-filled nuts on oped news.
The drivel they loved and you kept feeding
Were lies of hate and totally misleading.

How dare you write me with your threat!
The P-word was a lie, why so upset?
You lie each time you send a mail,
It’s not OK for me, but OK for Dale?

Reality says there’s not much chance
For liberals like you to change your dance.
No P-word from me will grace your screen,
Unless, of course, you don’t change your routine!