By: Cedric McClester

He thinks he’s God
So he may find it odd
That we think he’s a fraud
A mere mortal who’s flawed
Who uses veterans as props
And the cops as backdrops
He’s pulls out all stops
That man’s a Cyclops

He has tunnel vision
And he’s clearly on a mission
But he changes positions
Like the gloves of a physician
And although he may aspire
For an office that is higher
He’s your average town crier
And a world class liar

How can anyone embrace
A man who hasn’t made his case
One who denigrates by race
And has always been two face
But he draws ‘em in droves
When it should have been case closed
Which I guess just goes to show
You really never know

Ask him about the money
He reacts in ways not funny
When his nose gets runny
The picture’s not so sunny
Behind the mirrors and the smoke
What can be said about that bloke
Who most would like to choke
While praying that he croaks




Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016.  All rights reserved.