Goodbye Dubya

They claim he was a fool, this man
Who made up words and grinned inanely,
Who sent troops to Afghanistan
Where still their gait remains ungainly,
Who turned his anti-terror plan
Against Iraq, sans judge or jury,
Serving simply but to fan
The flames of fundamental fury.

They claim he was a mere buffoon,
A pygmy when great height was needed,
Who howled in anger at the moon
When economic boom receded,
Who whistled aye the self-same tune
When ears were closed to that old number,
Who toddled off to bed too soon,
Escaping into blissful slumber.

Hist’ry, though, will scarcely find him
Dim, when all the books are written.
Rather, led by those behind him –
Shadows that bewitched a kitten.
Pow’rful forces that did blind him
To the line ‘twixt right and wrong,
Puppeteers that have defined him
As the man that tagged along.