Trump-Et, the Song of Freedom
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Trump-et, the Song of Freedom
Sound the call, the vote is in.
God gave us a New York Real Estate Business Man,
to run Our Country.
Mr. President.
Surely we are, or-were in great trouble,
for this to happen.
They yelled and screamed and pulled out their hair.
Not all, only the rich and those afraid of secrets…
Un-folded like airplanes made of paper.
People dying, connected to power, the play grounds for the elite.
Titans to tell us what to feel and how to feel it!
Deplorable, hard working, less than low scum,
that have no idea what is best, for themselves…
Voter fraud, rampant. People pushed into places on the map…
Sanctuary for the wicked, sacrificing the addled peasants, fogged by opioids,
to drug lords that buy and sell children like cupcakes.
Build the wall Sir.
Build it now.
Bring our soldiers home from foreign countries.
Turn on the lights in the White House.
Make the cockroaches in congress, run back, under their own walls…
Back into the sewers, into the darkness of hell.
Help us to remember what we have forgotten.
Stop crime, and re-define what safe sanctuary really means.
God Bless Our Country.
Hold the rule of law!
We have a President that cares what happens, to us.
They are against him. Names, faceless stooges, like worms in the dirt.
Crawl back into the dark where you belong.
America stand tall.
Gather together, one to another.
We are stronger, then ever before.
Hail to the chief.
God Bless America!
One Voice, that of all her people, her Citizens, remembering who they are…
(You don’t have to like him, you just have to know, the other guys are giving us away.)
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2019
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