47th President Poem: Let Maya Ghazal The 2025 American Dream, by Aldous Bosch

Let the Americans and the World rise again
From the turmoil of the morose and docile dream.

When the News was meant for voice and information,
Now, the fairness dies to a fossil of a dream.

When children did not fear waking during nap time
To lose their rights by the apostles for a dream.

The Orange God who liberated terrorists
From prison to escape a jostle for a dream.

Mothers and daughters, sisters and friends, who want to
Escape foul leeches, but indocile to your dream.

Where the Gov’ restricts our bodies, hormones, and mind;
They bind and shove us through a throstle for a dream.

The MAGA Disciples who refuse to see woe,
As Thomas doubts as an Apostle for a dream.

God who was larger than life vanish to a husk,
When God was confronted by a colossal dream.

God and All Their Androgynous Glory despairs
When God knows that their love dies for an awful dream.

To watch neighbors, families, and friends wet their lips,
For the deficit Regime’s Brothel for a dream.

I, Aldous, who listens to the morning turmoil,
Where God passes with one last grovel for a dream.