From the mother of TheLCABroadside:

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the free media ride of Obama the Dear
Leader, much extolled from coasts east and west
Hardly a voter is more impressed
Than when talking heads make everything ‘clear.'

They said from their tank, “Get rid of the hag
By smear or polls from primaries.
Report how her numbers plummet and drag
Compared to Obama who carries

Big rocking crowds who Barrack the vote”
Crowds hip and cool, the media note.
They'll hide all the political loons
Behind feminists dropping in swoons
While young people march and sing ‘Yes We Can' tunes.

Then they said “So Long!” to her husband too.
His draw on the voters just wouldn't do.
Bill was a guy some couldn't resist,
So they whispered aloud ‘He's racist.'
And watched the Ex-Pres. sputter and rage,
As Hillary's run left the front page
Unable to pay campaign workers a wage,
As media worshippers rolled into place
To paint giant halos around “The One's” face.

They said he's not a regular guy
Standing youthful and slim as a reed.
He's the new Messiah, he's what you need
He's inspiring, post-racial and tall.
His skill as a speaker trumps any lie,
Just follow where this Pied Piper will lead
Send your money to answer his call.

He flew abroad for international veneer
Before crowds of adoring new fans,
Left over from watching rock bands,
Then ingesting free bratwursts and beer.
The numbers inflated for false report
By a media now willing to distort,
And eager to do any favor.
Surely no man is thought to be braver
Then one who appears on TV to brag
About tingles thrilling up his leg.
It's news for the masses to savor.

Wherever he went, press was fawning,
Shoveling bias with adoration
For his teleprompter oration
And declaring a new age is dawning.
The sycophants keep anointing
A figure somewhat disappointing,
As obscuring his failures and his flaws
Required both deception and claws
To prevent opposition from spawning.
Media kept on fawning, fawning,
For dancing resembling disjointing
As if some modern Geppetto
Fashioned wood for his limbs and his torso,
Attached to strings of disaster
By a mysterious puppet master.

He ascended the stage at Invesco Field
Greek Columns and hubris his only shield
As hordes of flattering camera lenses
Enshrined how his message appealed
To the chattering throng, with pretenses
Of journalistic integrity,
(Which languishes in obscurity,
When compared to their vaunted pedigree),
That elevates them above the coarse crowd
Of vulgar rabble, who dared speak out loud
To say the new savior, (whom pressies chose
And lifted to a dizzying height,
Surrounding him with angelic light)
Looked more like an emperor without his clothes.
Without deeds his ideas didn't look so bright,
Did America need one of those?

Obama the knight rode the press to war
Where for his lance he used their poisonous pen.
They covered his foes with barrels of ink and then
Wanting his approval just like before,
They sent minions out digging for dirt and smears,
In order to bring his opponents to tears,
To cower in corners afraid of their fears.
Malicious and caustic they wrote hard,
Willing now to play any devious card.
With misleading quotes they sought to bombard
The Republicans into submission.
But it seems they had never been around
Two Mavericks who knew how to stand their ground
‘Gainst a press with such stunning ambition.

Media bullies barred the door
To any dissenting opinion or voice
They amped up louder than before
The Talking Points of the DNC.
Insisting everyone agree,
They'd make our political choice.

They chose by the media spin,
When they covered all the debates.
Gilding each rhetorical sin
With an invisibility cloak
Of obfuscating and misdirection
Teflon coating and deflection.
As if the truth would make them choke
Or leave the election up to the fates.

They coalesced around their man,
His plane emblazoned with a new logo.
Who cared if Barry had a plan,
He had his own new presidential shield.
He could shake his thang while media kneeled,
Inflating his giant ego.
Stupefied with admiration they forgot
To question his associations.
His record tangled in a knot
Of gross misrepresentations.

We know the rest. Covers on magazines,
Movies with agendas in plots and themes,
The late night comics who ridiculed
As if common decency were fooled.
Endorsements from celebrities,
Terrorist groups, protestors up in trees,
Ladies in pink, social snobs of repute,
ACORN, whose work was in dispute.

So through the election rode Obama.
Through the election blogs cried out their alarm,
To independent thinkers, of the harm
Caused by media creating drama.
A voice in the crowd, playing catch in his yard
Caused ‘The One' to speak truth and stumble hard.
The partisans gathered in his town
To smear this plumber and bring him down.
In his hour of darkness we heard his cry
We rose from our silence and shouted “I…
Yes, I am Joe the Plumber too!
The days of these media whores are through!”

So Listen my children to this extra refrain
As Obama and his media circle the drain,
And he tosses dissension from off his plane,
If a candidate's pedestal spins media high
Then cast your vote for the other guy
Who resides on terra firma, John McCain.

I was relieved to see that you refrained from using iambic pentameter, the most bourgeois of all poetry types. That being said, it's got a beat and you can dance to it. Perfect for lulling the proletariat into the collective unconscious! Much agit-props!