Miss Me Yet - In Trump's Own Words

I told you, you would miss me The minute I was gone Tough to swallow, hard to see The extent of Joe's real con. First he promised, some believed His sole aim a power grab, Many listened quite relieved For his special brand of drab. Can't you see the mess he's made All he touches turns to dust, Yet it's us his failures paid As our country turns to rust. Still he blusters unperturbed, One bad choice after another, And if by now you're not disturbed, You can join him in the gutter. . But despite all this foul gloom Months of nothing every day, Wait for me to see us bloom I'm the man for which to pray. Three more years you may well wait With sad Joe calling the shots, But this country's very fate To make good before it rots.