Some things
Have wings
Of light,
While others fly at night
Their poison carrying down the years,
Provoking bitter tears.

One such has gone
But his legacy lives on
In those who can not wait
To employ their knuckles tattooed with “Hate”.

An intelligent man
Frequently can
Do more harm
Than a stupid one,
For he is possessed of charm
And learning to.
True he has gone
But the bitterness lives on.

The word “fascist” is ugly to me
And I can not agree
With those who would label him so,
Yet I know
That it is possible to stoke
The fire and deplore the thuggish smoke
On which we all choke.

This is not quite fair
As there where
Racists ere
He spoke.
Yet he threw a match
Which did catch
Provoking flame
Blame
And smoke.