Thin as a Reid (a poem)

Russ Vaughn
I’ve wondered who’d do the evil deed;

Not surprisingly, it’s Harry Reid.

It was Cronkite stabbed us in the back;

This time it’s a pol not a media hack.

Uncle Walter used his powerful podium

To betray me and mine with nightly odium;

America’s avuncular pontificator,

Now an admitted, liberal, media traitor.


In his lonely grave, FDR must be spinning,

Franklin Delano’s party’s lost all sense of winning,

Focused on feelings rather than thinking,

Their cut’n’run view is that our ship is sinking.

FDR, who stayed firm through our world’s darkest days

Would despair at his party’s current, cowardly ways.

“There is no fear but fear itself?”

Ha! His party’s put courage on its bottom shelf.


Within this old vet a haunting fear lurks

That we may again lose to these liberal jerks.

They control the main airways, most that’s in print;

All the world sees and hears is their wimpish bent.

Belaboring losses in their daily whining,

All that America stands for they’re undermining;

Supplying our enemies with moral support,

Craven quitters inside, opening the gates of our fort.


To witness all this is surely most saddening,

More even than that is how much it is maddening,

That we who go out, lay our lives on the line,

To protect all the rights of these whiners to whine,

Are so seldom portrayed in a positive light,

Are never given credit for winning the fight;

Yet fight on we do to protect even those,

Who never buy us a drink, just give us the hose.


It is my prayer that Senator Reid, will someday account for his treacherous deed,

Kneeling towards Mecca, sore knees on a rug, perhaps he’ll regret he gave in to the thug.


Russ Vaughn

Combat Infantryman

Vietnam 65-66

I’ve wondered who’d do the evil deed;

Not surprisingly, it’s Harry Reid.

It was Cronkite stabbed us in the back;

This time it’s a pol not a media hack.

Uncle Walter used his powerful podium

To betray me and mine with nightly odium;

America’s avuncular pontificator,

Now an admitted, liberal, media traitor.


In his lonely grave, FDR must be spinning,

Franklin Delano’s party’s lost all sense of winning,

Focused on feelings rather than thinking,

Their cut’n’run view is that our ship is sinking.

FDR, who stayed firm through our world’s darkest days

Would despair at his party’s current, cowardly ways.

“There is no fear but fear itself?”

Ha! His party’s put courage on its bottom shelf.


Within this old vet a haunting fear lurks

That we may again lose to these liberal jerks.

They control the main airways, most that’s in print;

All the world sees and hears is their wimpish bent.

Belaboring losses in their daily whining,

All that America stands for they’re undermining;

Supplying our enemies with moral support,

Craven quitters inside, opening the gates of our fort.


To witness all this is surely most saddening,

More even than that is how much it is maddening,

That we who go out, lay our lives on the line,

To protect all the rights of these whiners to whine,

Are so seldom portrayed in a positive light,

Are never given credit for winning the fight;

Yet fight on we do to protect even those,

Who never buy us a drink, just give us the hose.


It is my prayer that Senator Reid, will someday account for his treacherous deed,

Kneeling towards Mecca, sore knees on a rug, perhaps he’ll regret he gave in to the thug.


Russ Vaughn

Combat Infantryman

Vietnam 65-66