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Cocaine’s Dance on Pennsylvania Avenue

In the heart of our nation, where the eagle does reign,
A twisted tale unfolds, tinged with darkness and pain.
Within the White House, oh dear, behold the sight,
A powdery substance, as pure as the night.

A firefighter gasps, with a voice tinged with shock,
“Cocaine hydrochloride!” Oh, what a mockery, what a crock!
The Secret Service, in a frenzy, swiftly moves,
Uncovering this forbidden elixir, these illicit grooves.

Not in the West Wing, where power claims its throne,
But where tourists wander, a place both revered and unknown.
A routine inspection turns into a wild display,
A dash of cocaine, clandestinely tucked away.

Oh, Biden, absent, in Camp David’s retreat,
Unaware of the chaos that now defines his seat.
Returning to pandemonium, a spectacle to behold,
A story of the White House, waiting to be told.

But let us not forget, this isn’t the first bout,
Illegal substances sneaking their way about.
Snoop Dogg and Willie, soaring high in the sky,
In the White House restroom, oh, what a wild, daring try!

Erkan Mustafa, too, joined the revelry and glee,
Beneath Nancy Reagan’s watch, so oblivious was she!
And Grace Slick, oh dear, she played her sly hand,
Spiking Nixon’s tea, with a psychedelic brand.

So here we stand, aghast and transfixed,
At the White House’s defiance, where laws are mixed.
A tale of intrigue, of power and might,
Cocaine in the White House, igniting the night!

 

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