One More Bad Poem

Hillary

I met her in the swimming pool
I cannot stand the crowd
But Hillary was different
and seemed to say so, loud.

Her skin was silvery and cool
Her swimming like a dream
Her crawling style was ancient
but made the waters stream.

Her eyes were deep and green as sea
I never saw them blink
Yes, Hillary was different
but how, I could not think.

Until at last it came to me
and I saw what I had missed:
These facts made it evident
That Hillary was a fish.


This is actually an ode for Hillary Clinton which went bad as usual with my poetry