Torrents of abhorrence from across the twisted pond
Maladjusted reckoning, a tide of endless wrong
Inanity, polarity, profanity and bile
the scent of orange Lunacy upon his crooked smile.
With sycophants and cronies hanging on to every word
Perpetuating damaged lies with rhetoric absurd.
Making nothing great again, an omelette full of stink
upon a plate of hubris and the miles of wasted ink.
Will from this dream we wake to find ourselves in other times?
Will soon be when the courts decide to overturn his crimes?
Will one day see us looking back relieved that he has gone
or will the demons destiny be the ending of our song?
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