From Hillary, with Clinton’s name, we hear her mighty roar!
When one lie fails she does not pause, but quickly tells two more.

From legal bills that “disappeared” and suddenly were found,
To nonexistent bullets that she never ducked around.

The server in the bathroom that concealed her e-mail sleaze?
Its secrets will remain with her, the Russians and Chinese.

She plies her trade with Wall Street blades who give her bags of cash,
But then she bellows from a stage that they’re all greedy trash.

What words of comfort does she purr, when bankers’ doors are closed?
The words are worth a million bucks, yet never are disclosed.

She boldly boasts that Libya was all a great success,
That not a single one of ours was killed in that bleak mess.

But does she not remember those who perished in the night,
Who bravely paid the highest price, abandoned in the fight?

The Times, the Post, the network hacks won’t ask her to explain.
And those who do, she stares them down and scolds them with disdain:

“Don’t bother me with Benghazi, the fault there was not mine!
“A video caused that attack. That’s still my party line.

“What dif’rence does it make,” she jeers, “just why the four men died?
“What dif’rence does it make,” she sneers, “that I was asked, and lied?”

Great power is her heart’s desire, for which she campaigns hard.
Yet she can’t even figure out a New York subway card.

The photo op was meant to show she shares the common touch.
But what is it she shares with us? The answer is, not much.

Now Hill and Bill live life on high, their foundation is rich,
With foreign friends who dearly pay to scratch a Clinton itch.

Like vampires roaming in the night who shun the light of day,
The Clintons draw back from the sound of truth they dare not say.

And through the waters deep she hunts, the Demos’ great white shark--
No, shark is not the beast to say, ’cause fishes do not bark.

A special place in hell may wait for women with the gall
To do the right and decent thing by turning from her call.

Or maybe much more pleasant climes will be the just deserts
For those who see her as she is, not biased by her skirts.