In Colonial days in Boston
Our tea was being taxed
By the lackeys of old George the Third
Our patience had been maxed.
Having no say in what was done,
No representation there in any way,
A bunch of colonists costumed up
And threw a shipload of incoming tea
Into Boston’s soggy, deep bay.
We were taught what they did
And that as descendants,
It would be a healthy type
We learned that righteous people
Gave us what became known
The Boston Tea Party.
Today, the term’s been borrowed
By folks who really believe
That a parallel situation faces us all,
That we must either change or grieve.
Sarah Palin’s a champion
Of this particular point of view
Which may be either justified
Or self-righteous hullabaloo.
Boston is on the Eastern shore
Some call the right side
Of the country.
Or a geographical leaning
We have elected representatives
Whose work we assess as they go along,
And if we feel they’ve failed us
They’ll be others who believe
That we’re wrong.
That’s the nature of Democracy,
The freedom to disagree
And we must defend each others right to do so
Whether or not they agree
With you or me.
Shall we sit, be civil
A cup of tea
Or sling slanders at each other?
That can’t really be the best
That we can be.