The White House Poem by Leah Ross
The White House
Is on free fall a downward spiral
it's like 52 card pick up again & again
the cards are crumbling the walls are closing in
every day a new shoe is dropping so & so talked with Russia
The web of lies are compiling one on top of the other are woven tight
when will this madness end when America is bleed dry
Monday, March 6, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: random thoughts
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
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5/20/2024 5:33:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
