A poem I wrote warning you about Trump, way back when he first slithered into the primaries…

Donald, may I call you Don?

Or would you prefer Mr. Trump?

Into the primaries you have been drawn

You say America is in a slump

As much as I would love to end up as your pawn

I’m afraid I’m not that much of a chump

I can hardly wait to see the dawn

You thing in the night that goes bump

Most of us just want to see you gone

You human-shaped camel’s hump

With your hair like a poorly manicured lawn

And you head like a rotting stump

Yes we cannot wait until you’ve withdrawn

You ambulatory garbage dump

What causes you to ramble on?

What makes you such a grump?

Your morals have been overdrawn

You spew vile like a septic tank pump

America’s not falling for your con

So go take a flying jump

If you insist on behaving like Satan’s spawn

I would like to sit down with a thump

And it’s your face I would like to sit upon

So that you can kiss my big, sweet rump…

About pouringmyartout

You will laugh at my antics... That is my solemn promise to you... Or your money back... Stop on by...
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