Our great nation's President,
Manhattan resident,
Donald J. Trump--
Some describe him as reticent,
Yet, his power cements,
With each tragic event.
Made his fortune on rent,
Years collecting bad debt.
The election was theft.
Tried to stay relevant.
Then his morals got bent,
Far too right--
Now, what's left?
Wednesday, August 30, 2017
Friday, February 17, 2017
You think I'm just a fratboy?
You think I’m just a fratboy?
Well, maybe you’re right.
All the fratboys I know,
Well, they know how to fight.
Yet, they only sing songs,
When we fight for what’s wrong.
We do more than rip bong—
Else, we wouldn’t last long...
I might be in a frat,
But I’m much more than that.
I wear all kinds of hats.
No, they’re not all snapbacks.
Thursday, January 26, 2017
Dear Mr. President,
Dear Mr. President,
You better not blow this.
Sure, there’s that whole thing about the popular vote, but
the electoral college is the law of the land.
As much as I hate to admit it, you are the President. You won, fair and square. To be honest, I’m not all that surprised you
won.
I’ve vowed to remain optimistic in the months following the
election. I’d like to believe the
democratic process works. You mobilized
a movement against all odds and that was no minor feat.
I’m sure even you can’t deny, however, that a lot of people
are horrified by the prospect of your Presidency. I’m also pretty sure the Women’s March set an
all–time record last weekend. People
were protesting you on all seven continents (even Antarctica). You, on the other hand, broke the record for
worst approval rating going into the inauguration …ever.
Still, I’m a firm believer in the concept of innocent until
proven guilty. I wanted to see what
actions would follow your unprecedented rhetoric and campaign.
It hasn’t been long, but I’ve seen enough.
The thing is, Mr. President, that an overwhelming majority
of the electoral map believed in you.
Most of them probably still believe in you. I really hope you don’t let them down.
Are you really going to make
America great again?
You can’t win every game—that’s the beauty of
Democracy. But, what’s the point of
playing if everyone loses?
I want to believe, Mr. President, that by the time you leave
office this country is going to be better than when you arrived. Every day that gets a little bit harder.
Do you care about the people whose lives you are about
unravel?
I hope so.
If not, we might all be fucked.
With All Due Respect,
Jake Max
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
On Living
If living was simple,
It wouldn't be fun.
If people were perfect,
Our work would be done.
If everyone walked,
There'd be no need to run.
At the end of the day,
We all came from the sun.
It wouldn't be fun.
If people were perfect,
Our work would be done.
If everyone walked,
There'd be no need to run.
At the end of the day,
We all came from the sun.
Thursday, January 5, 2017
Zero Sum Game
When, winning or losing's a zero sum game—
The losers move on & the winners get fame.
Is "champion" anything more than a name?
Is losing by one so incredibly lame?
Impossible standards will drive you insane—
Unreal expectations just aren't humane.
We all share this earth, at the end of the day—
When one person wins, all the rest of us pay.
The losers move on & the winners get fame.
Is "champion" anything more than a name?
Is losing by one so incredibly lame?
Impossible standards will drive you insane—
Unreal expectations just aren't humane.
We all share this earth, at the end of the day—
When one person wins, all the rest of us pay.
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
2016
Oh, 2016—
Why'd you have to be so mean?
We can't always agree—
That's the cost of being free.
It's not easy to see—
See the future's more than me.
Yes, we have to believe—
Only then, we'll stop to grieve.
Why'd you have to be so mean?
We can't always agree—
That's the cost of being free.
It's not easy to see—
See the future's more than me.
Yes, we have to believe—
Only then, we'll stop to grieve.
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