A poem about the election

There’s a creepy, anxious feeling in the cold November air
‘Cause all the progress that we’ve made is now at risk and we are scared
Of all the monsters that we thought we’d slain, but only pushed aside
But they grew stronger while we looked away, and now they plan to ride
Across the vast terrain of desolation, cackling all the way
The venom spewing from their mouths as they wreak havoc and decay
And all the children and the refugees are wondering where they stand
And whether love can ever conquer hate in this benighted land