President Trump

poem by: John Rodie
Written on Nov 09, 2016

So Donald Trump is President, hail to the Chief
But for We the People to do this, beggars all believe.
Where was the rigged election is all I have to say
As I am forced onto my knees, my hands are grasped to pray
And through these weeping worried eyes I see
The land of the free, (if you don’t have doctor’s fees),
Cares not for the poor huddled masses that wash up on her shore
For the Samaritans, like the Muslims, will be cast out for evermore
Along with Truth and Justice and The American Way
(And will Superman still now be allowed to stay?)

But I can see Strange Fruit hang from the Orange trees
That once more will sway in the gentle southern breeze!

So America do as China did, and remove the welcome mat
But Don’t complain when no one wants to trade with rules like that!
And when the fiery cross once more lights up the evening sky
Remember that you are the ones that voted in this guy!

So close the doors and build your wall
From the world, Goodbye- that’s all!

 

Tags: sad, rhyme, depressing, pain, dark,

Add Comment


Cecilia Crasto commented:
Very good, people think that someone will come in with a fairy wand and create a magical world, doesn't work that way, most people in politics are there for themselves...well written.
Christopher Russon commented:
Never put your trust in Nobels.that means all world leaders. Very good poem.
Geoffrey Brewer commented:
Oh! Come on John. Methinks you go over the top. Strange fruit! You diminish real events from history when you project such an image with no basis in fact.
Geoffrey Brewer commented:
When Trump won this election, the party of slavery, segregation and the Ku Klux Klan (The Democrats) was defeated. Hillary is a Progressive Socialist. Socialism has been responsible for the deaths of tens of millions in the last century.

 

 

More by John Rodie

...
And the World to ...

poem by John Rodie

And the world to silent slumber speeds With her face a deathly pallor painted; As she from the warming Sun recedes And into the cold so darkly tainted. All around are the leaves, liver spotted, (That trail the footsteps of the... Read more

...
The Mighty Hood

poem by John Rodie

Fifteen hundred fathoms, she lies- straight down- Heart stopped- in a watery grave uncovered- The Mighty Hood still hoods memories of Clowns With message flags unfurled- into battle hurled Dreaming Glories- like Nelson, Trafalga... Read more