…Our protests & marches to indoor pleasures.
Grim-visaged death hath smooth’d his dark shroud;
And now, instead of heart attacks & cancers
To fright the souls of fearful Americans,
He capers nimbly indoors
Borne by the promiscuous breathing of our youth https://twitter.com/digiphile/status/1335331821911994370
But we, that are not used to pandemic restrictions,
Nor bade to mask our plagued breaths;
We, that are rudely cramped, and in want of love’s tragedy
To dance before a wanton ambling nymph;
We, that felt curtail’d of our fair proportion,
Cheated of life by a dissembling cretin
Sickened, uninformed, sent before our time
Into this breathing world, alternative facts made up,
And so lame and irrational
That dogs bark as they halt by them;
Why, we, in this bleak time of plague,
Have tried to vote away the crimes,
Hoping to drive away shadows with the sun
& return our union to normalcy:
Therefore, since he cannot prove widespread fraud
We must not entertain these baseless lies
He is determined to invent villains
& rages against the displeasures of his days
Plots has he laid, inductions dangerous
By conspiracies, libels & dreams
To overturn the election & become king
In deadly hate one against the other
& if our union be as true & just
As he is subtle, false & treacherous
This day should he be mew’d up
About a conspiracy, which says that ‘Q’
One of his heirs shall be
Dive, tweets, down

here Winter comes
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