The Lonely Voice, on Saturday, stared at the awful mess
His country has become—and then he saw that telling dress.
Or coat, it was, but just the sort of thing which simply hollers,
“You’ll never wear a coat like this: you’ll never have the dollars!”
The wearer, who appears to be behind so many acts
And less-than-truthful statements by her boss—although the facts
Are now to be rebranded, as the truth begins to give,
Not as the lies they are, but simply an “alternative”–
Calls it her “revolution wear”, and therefore it’s no wonder
She has to make excuses for her patron’s every blunder.
She thinks it’s reminiscent of heroic things once done
By patriots who fought the Brits along with Washington,
But look at this and you will see at once her foolish error:
That coat looks more like that of those who backed the Reign of Terror.
Likewise the hat:
the bonnet rouge of all those violent nuts
Who marched with heads on pikes and named themselves the sans culottes.
This led the Lonely Voice at once to easily compare
These cocky trumpists now with Maximilian Robespierre
Who thought that he was safe when he sent others to their fate
While boasting that he was the only man to save the state,
But then he went too far at last—his arrogance was seen
As empty as his neck when he fell to the guillotine!