We, the Electoral College

Before ‘twas lonely rhetoric,
Ensured succession weapon-free.
Voters candidates did pick,
Without rules or referee.
For final Presidential ramp,
We accord our rubber stamp.

But rules unwritten surely are,
And rhetoric can go too far.
Shouldn’t Electors, five, three, eight,
Think on this ‘fore sealing fate?
If candidate doth lie, lie, lie,
Is time ripe for bye, bye, bye?

Even in hour of victory,
Claims millions vote illegally.
Wave on wave an endless stream
Outflanks checkers, team by team.
Opponents counter not in kind,
One hand behind back do bind.

These, who this low fight decry,
Are seen by kids to fight on high.
What to tell them, our kin,
When post-truth strategy doth win?

Referee, umpire and linesmen all,
The games kids play, they oversee.
Call foul a foul, and all agree,
In life’s journey you walk tall.

So Electors must seek high goal,
Before stamp, need ref’ree role.
For those who seek Pres’dential fame,
What counts is how they play the game.