The Elephant In the Tomb

A crowd shares the vault as King Trump waits to die, And Lords Mitch and Paul Ryan in dark corners cry, Deep throated pride often, a crass quest for fame, Yes, 'Aida's' one metaphor! Love was her game: Not bribes from the Russians, or dalliance odd! Her devotion inspires us; their morals are fraud! To hate any truth but your own is a joke, And conservative zealots must be snorting coke! Get rich schemes are likely to hasten their end, And these racist, rich scumbags, would they know a friend Whose gift was a bulletproof vest? Feeling tough They use all men like stepping stones; women treat rough! Best bring lots of water; Trump's not known to share, Ask the women and children (not under his care!) It 's all about him, hope you're light on your feet, Or he'll soon take a bite of what some call their seat. That's not unexpected, been clear all along, That the Don would sell wife, child, or friend for a song! Long Tooth August 25, 2018