AnnaLynne McCord’s ‘Mr President Putin’ poem is all too typical of liberal self-indulgence.
If I was your mother, you would have been so loved, held in the arms of joyous light… I can’t imagine the stain, the soul-stealing pain that the little boy you must have seen and believed and the formulation of thought quickly taught that you lived in a cruel, unjust world… Oh dear Mr President Putin.’
