Days of Wine and Roses,
Watching all the poses.
Underneath our noses,
Nothing left supposes.
Nothing left for guessing.
They are now undressing.
Rid of all the besting,
Now their sins are nesting.
Talk of tribulation
Coming to our nation.
No more on vacation;
Only devastation.
Breaking through our borders,
All of them are hoarders
Coming to our quarters.
They are now our boarders.
Beastly now invasion,
We can now envision.
They are on a mission,
Causing us division.
Families divided.
Marriage is derided.
Couples not united.
Children are collided.
Foreigners not of them.
Sharers of our anthem.
Sayers, they are, of Him,
But the fruit not in them.
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