Notes About The Poem
To help us think as all good political satire should.
Quicksand in Iran - in Trumps own words
Try as I may
I'm swatting at shadows dancing on quicksand,
To my utter dismay
Nothing I do works as planned.
My good friend Bibi
Promised we'd trounce them in days,
We were counting off nightly
Itching to exit this devilish maze.
Who would have thought
This bunch of hardliners would fight,
When history taught
We'd neutralize all at the very first sight.
Yet here we now are
Squeezing that sand through our hands,
Agreement still far
Seriously thwarting my carefully laid plans.
I've a November election to win,
Freeing Cuba on temporary hold,
The future looks suddenly grim
If I don't get the Mullahs to fold.
But hope's in the air
We'll just squeeze them more,
Throw in a prayer
For divine intervention to even the score.
I can't do this too fast
Muddle a vague resolution,
If a peace is to last
We need to incite a real revolution.
Despite all this grief
I hadn't a choice,
My aim make this brief
Give Iranians a voice.
Stop the bad guys
Deny them the bomb,
Freedom the prize
A win with aplomb.
Yet the fake Media complains
While Democrats snipe,
Neither have rational brains
They're all hubris and hype.
Thank you for your attention to this matter - DJT
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