My life was poised for all of this
And I would not the moment miss—
Today the presidential leech
Beseeches: Kill freedom of speech.
You whited sepulchre! You moron,
To whom all empathy is foreign,
The heart and soul of humankind
Lies in the choice to speak one’s mind
So I will never still my tongue
Till you repent, or else are hung,
Or, failing that, the victory yours
My words being stifled at the source.
A man is not afraid to die
When he denounces villainy,
And—all the world has understood—
Your rotten substance was not good.