President’s Day

Georgie, born in February,
Never really liked to share. He
Would his wooden teeth have gritted
Had he seen his birthday splitted
With that scrawny upstart Lincoln.
Really, what must George be thinkin’
Now that what was once his own
Is permanently half on loan?
Besides, the way most folks have reckoned,
He was born the 22nd,
Which is when we used to sing
That copyrighted birthday thing
In honor of the president
Who taught us what not lying meant.
But now the way they calculate
The three-day weekend, he will wait
Forever for the holiday
To not predate his natal day.
I know he’d say he’s ticked, ’cause I
Know George would never tell a lie.


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