When Hillary Clinton asks my advice
Which she possibly won’t since she’s never heard of me,
I’ll tell her to give up talking about realism
And do everything she can to be inspirational
And to start right away, not waste one more second.
You can tell at a glance that Hillary’s handlers
Have not been doing their research on hope
Because if they had they’d be telling Hilary
You’re wasting your breath shouting, “Be realistic!”
To a crowd that’s decided to be hopeful.
When the blacks were freed from the bonds of slavery
It wasn’t by anyone being realistic
Now deep in the memory runs an audacious hope
Brought spurting, bubbling up to the surface
By a leader of inspiration.
Next year the crowd will be more realistic
In the worst case perhaps a bit disappointed.
But this year the crowd is going to be hopeful
Enjoying the lift of a wild inspiration
And next year will be too late for you, Hillary.
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