An Angry Mob on One (a poem)

By Mimi Evans Winship

I am an angry mob, and I took some Tea last week.

I stood by an Obamacare supporter. We began to speak.

He is a middle aged engineer, and he is without a job.

He didn't seem to fit in with the Acorn egged-on mob.

He has no health care coverage. He's worried and he's scared.

He voted for our president, thinking Obama really cared.

We chatted in a friendly way. On most things we agreed.

We found we are both average folk with no elitist greed.

He hadn't seen his freedom lost, hadn't come to that conclusion.

He began to open his eyes and ears and spotted the Grand Illusion.

We realized our American hopes and dreams really did align.

As I waved good-bye, he waved back and put down his Obama sign.

)

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