A bald-headed freak who gyrates
Like a fool spinning up there on stage,
Is polluting the political arena
And thinks that he’s some kind of sage.

‘Chuck rocks at the bitch if she speaks truth,’
Are the words that this foul man spewed out,
As he contradicted himself with every word
That vomited from his ill-informed mouth.

‘She has no right to say what she does,’
Is what this foul creature first said,
‘If it’s her right to speak, it’s ours to throw rocks,’
Is the lie that passed from his head.

‘Punish her because she dares to think,’
Said this freak without a sane thought,
Circular logic flowed from his foul mouth
Conformity is what he’s been taught.

As a politician his job was to protect her
But that’s not the way of this man,
His ideas are pointless and fleeting
Like children’s circles drawn in the sand.