The Republican Party National Convention will be held this coming Monday in, of all places, Cleveland, a city where a Republican is nary to be found, and where the streets outside the convention hall will be filled with Black Lives Matter protesters and the sweet smell of napalm.

The protests grow in rage and size
And sudden, to no one’s surprise
With Black Lives Matter in the crowd
The sound of gunshots grows quite loud
And placard waving Soros folk
Insist that all inside shall croak
As fires flare and pipe bombs boom
Unheard by those inside the room
Deciding who to nominate
The man who’ll surely dominate
The coming match for the big prize
While outside folks with blood red eyes
Turn all the streets to battlegrounds
Filled with black smoke and raucous sounds
Of voices filled with righteous rage
All reading from the same old page