Willard Romney brings out the romantic greeting card poet in me, sitting under a tree, composing my effluent verse while gently caressing the gentle dew drop of a new born kitten/ driving my welfare socialist soul like the grapes of wrath that yearns for sweet release...
O, Will, remember the days
Before all the negative publicity tore up your miss-understood genitals
Six degrees from the Iowa Caucus?
O, Will, you reached out, with gifts and kind salient whispers of routing numbers that indicated Cayman Island Charities to yourself
Why? Willard? Why is the world so mean?
Why don’t they just take you at your word?
When you are the golden goose of Job Creation?
Everything you touch
Turns into minimum wage somewhere else like
China and Illinois
Breaking up Union Stella
Like a night at the Theater of Romney!
This world may never complete their cruel digressions
If they only understood who you truly are in your heart!
They would fall down and worship you as your Lord and Savior,
Like it was when your Father was living in Mexico
To avoid prosecution for polygamy
And other things
Polite Yahoo society cannot mention
Of a man who tried to save Republicans the notorious efforts of attempted covenants
That symbolizes the pure soul inside you!
Of a Story of a Mormon of his Flag and Apple Pie!
O Will, God and Joseph Smith bless you, and do not let the Liberal philistines shake
The temple of you blessed worship
Where the underlings of society
Stumble and turn on their
Welfare heels, O Will, my Will, how lovely your visage in the warm internet glow
Soothing my nerves like a drink or two at the piano bar where the
Washed out drunks like to come for refreshments and sexual intercourse
Like a one parent family
And a topless Picture of Ann Coulter
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