I went to the border and what did I see,
a multitude of invaders, wanting everything free.
Most of the invaders were fit younger men,
what kind of morons would allow these usurpers in.
I looked at the White House and what did I see,
I saw nothing to remind me of the land of the free.
I saw pandering schmucks and posturing fools,
the American variety of communist ghouls.
Wearing smiles on their faces, carrying knives for our backs,
practiced oath breakers, straight up demonquacks.
I looked for some reason, I found chaos and disorder,
the White house was a clusterf**k, just like the border.

I dropped in on the house, in search of some hope,
I found a passel of idiots, most of them high on dope.
Lots of name-calling, no commonsense,
hanging on for dear life, astraddle the fence.
I checked out the senate, old men taking naps,
some playing with young aides astraddle their laps.
I saw nothing to lift me from the pits of despair.
I saw no relief for America coming from there.
Outside I looked longingly at the Capital's dome,
I could only think of the debauchery of ancient Rome.
This was no shining city, sitting on top of the hill,
I was filled with regrets and a harbinger of ill.

Disgusted and jaded I turned my face to the west.
towards Goshen, Utah for a weary man's rest.
I traveled through once vibrant cities, now living hells,
the surrounding areas awash in decaying smells.
I passed through small towns, with a semblance of life,
the people no longer so friendly, eyes full of strife.
The surrounding farms looked neglected, so did the people,
 they'd somehow been transformed into government sheeple.
Finally back home in Goshen, I fell into my favorite chair,
sighing contentedly I reclined putting my feet up in the air.
I sank into a troubled sleep, my dreams were not pleasant,
I woke up with the realization I was an American peasant.
D.L. Crockett -- 9/23/23