I'm falling behind, thank God for Joe's plan.
I want to be happy with nothing as fast as I can.
I'm slowly starving as all my cupboards go bare.
I can't wait to be happy when I'm existing on air.
Even if I wanted to, I can no longer go to the store.
My car sucked down it's gas, I can't afford any more.
My dogs are eating each other, hungrily looking at me.
I wonder how much more miserable I can possibly be.
My TV has gone silent, I guess no money no tube.
I think of happier times and I sit here and boob.
I feel like an old picture that's slowly fading away.
If Joe's plan comes to fruition I can be happy some day.
I hope it's not another promise, Joe's planning to break.
I can't buy any more misery, how much more can I take.
I'm sitting here shivering coming down with the ague.
While Joe talks up his economy, how he can brag.
They just shut off my water, they shut off my phone.
Without my faith in my Savior, I'd be bereft and alone.
The agues turned into pnuemonia, I've a rail in my chest.
I can feel the end coming, that I'm soon to be blessed.
I close my eyes wearily, happily going to my final rest.
I realize Biden's plague on humanity is part of our test.
My final earthly thought was, maybe Biden was right.
In the great hereafter we're happy, free of his communist blight.
D.L. Crockett -- 12/23/23