Twas the night before Christmas
On this an odd year
Not just the number, not just the fear.
The Trumpers are filling their warehouses without care
Won’t be long before ‘legals’ are found inside there.
Of course it is deportation I’m talking about
The thing that lead to this election rout.
Yet here on the eve of our richest holiday
There should be some kind things that I have to say.
I look and I look and I search with great fright
To find a single thing that could cause delight.
At long last I find it, from history past.
I remember how last time we dumped his fat ass.
He remembers too, It truly does appear.
For he’s coating everything in his gold smear.
I think that the Grinch could learn a thing or three
From our infamous President, Mr. Fat Goldy.
But here’s what I’ve learned from now times and nigh.
I’ve learned that all things must, eventually die.
Be it countries, or systems, or that thing called hope.
In the end we all find ourselves at the end of a rope.
And here in the US that’s settled quite deep.
Enough so that the country is run by a creep.
So pass shall this and he.
In time the gold one will vacate DC.
I end this strange poem with a nod to that day.
in 2028 we’ll sing hip hip hooray.