Opinion

Whimpers in the Whelpering

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Hope springs eternal or so the poets say
But nothing seems poetic in Washington today
Battle on the wind, stalemate all a’grind
The blame, The game as who can best opine

There’s whimpers in the whelpering
Oh, the little pups so fine
There is no hope, no helpering
For those who love to whine

A battle for security we asked for vows to win
Promises they make to keep until the tests begin
But one is standing firm it seems until the battle ends
They’re Trumped, They’re stumped, And soil their vast Depends

There’s whimpers in the whelpering
Oh, the little pups so fine
There is no hope, no helpering
For those who love to whine

Mitt came in a full on wail to prove he does not quail
We’ve never won, Its how its done, Republicans just bail
Not that they are weak, just only in the knees
They got a plan to make a stand if the press agrees

So now the people wait with dread anticipation
Ignored again, stuck again, a sad capitulation
The pattern can be broken if the truth be spoken
Find the spine, Hold the line, Courage can be woken

But, there’s whimpers in the whelpering
Oh, the little pups so fine
There is no hope, no helpering
For those who love to whine

Andy Torbett
Atkinson

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