There’s a red line;
Some say it’s mine.
Though this is a claim I’ve rejected,
Maybe it’s nice
That I’ve won twice
‘Cause I am done getting elected.

This phrase was born
When I tried to warn
About Assad’s evil design.
I’m at a loss,
Didn’t think he’d cross
What’s now called Obama’s Red Line.

This here red line
Tried to define
When to target Syria’s ogre.
But it creates
Grief and debates;
I think I need a do-over.

My ratings are down,
I feel like a clown,
My prize* is too old to still shine.
When on TV,
To all the viewers I plea:
Don’t call it Obama’s Red Line.

Pundits opine
That this red line
Leads us to war because I own it.
But I’d abhor
Blame for this war,
So I’ll deny and postpone it.

I wish my words
Had not been heard;
This pressure I do not desire.
I’ll take them back,
And not attack,
Don’t want a new Mideast quagmire.

There’s a red line,
Don’t say it’s mine.
It belongs to every nation.
Leave me alone,
Let me go home
To pack up for my next vacation.

*2009 Nobel Peace Prize