The Conventions

The Conventions

I could not listen every hour...

my ears quite soon wore out.

Apple pie and Chevrolet

get tiresome when they shout.

                    

Platitudes with attitudes

can turn what’s sweet to sour...

especially if a simple thought

is prated for an hour.

Romney and Obama

are known good family men,

but when repeated o’er and o’er

I start to count to ten.

I question all the data

oft skewed to taint the facts...

when foes react with bias

I must weigh two abstracts.

I’m faced with a decision...

the record and the pledge.

One feels his plan will work o’er time...

the other wants to use a sledge.

Visit http://allthatrhymes.squarespace.com   for more poetry by James E. Cox.