by Tom Graffagnino
There Ms. Richards sat and stammered
While perverting wrong and right.
Through the hemming and the hawing,
Dark impersonated light.
If the babies were not dying
By the millions in her graft,
We might roll our eyes and chuckle,
We might simply stare and laugh.
But instead we watched in horror
As she swore abortion saves,
While ignoring at the same time
Sixty million tiny graves.
And then, (bless her heart), she ventured
Into deeper water still,
Claiming those aren’t human beings
That they burn alive to kill.
Then we saw Cecile pretending
That those big bucks rolling in
Were not “profits” worth discussing…
In the world of liberal spin.
“Excess revenue” she called it,
Just blood money gone astray…
Like a Lamborghini Hedge Fund
For the bonuses they pay.
And those mammograms you heard of?
Well, they’re few and far between…
Like, ya know…er... non-existent…
“Women’s health”, like, in your dreams.
Killing babies is a small part
Of the very good we do!
We can help you crunch those numbers,
If you’d really like us to.
Yes, we’ve grown adept at “crunching”
As I’m sure by now you’ve heard….
It’s one way we’re saving lives, sir.
We're Progressives undeterred.
Yep, we’re way up in the millions
In the numbers crunching game,
But no sweat, we save the organs
For a cool financial gain.
* * *
In a culture mostly pagan
Stuff like this is no big deal,
We’re not really into “shame” now,
We’re just into "touchy-feel".
Twisted logic is now normal,
True Morality’s passe,
We’ve exchanged all black and whites, man,
For some fifty shades of gray.
