Dear Kindly Dr. Fauci
You told it like it is
To the buffoon who’s in there packing
And face we’ll never miss
Our world will turn the corner, when
Joe and Jill are in the house
We are mixing up our outfit
To usher out this louse
Counting down the minutes, until Nov. 3rd
When we get to say good riddens to this consummate of Turds
Our yoga we’ll continue, meditate away our fear
With prayers hopefully answered
We’ll focus on next year
Batons and bags of glitter, are waiting at the door
Good-bye to President Ratchet
No longer for 4 more.