Poem: ‘Twas the night before Fiscliff’

Poem: ‘Twas the night before Fiscliff’

Twas the night before Fiscliff, when all through the House

Not a statesman was stirring, not even to grouse.
Neither bills nor amendments have much of a prayer
Since hope and change fever brought gridlock to bear.

The citizens pondered in fear and in dread,
What will happen if off the cliff we go instead?
Obama was sure he set Boehner a trap
To force taxes higher, give rich folks a slap.

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