The Morning After
The consequences known, foretold for years,
a crushing blow would break the country’s back,
eclipsing the most pessimistic fears,
a devastating night of blackest black…
The zealots would be working ‘round the clock
to mete out punishment to those opposed,
while sheeple, noses pressed to glass, just gawked
’neath red bills lest their faces be exposed.
Impossible as it might seem to most,
the world did spin much like the day before,
though once the quakes were dampened on the coasts,
it tilted to the right a little more.
Go hug your neighbor, whether loss or win;
In four short years, we do it all again!
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