My wall was not always stained red;
the map that hangs upon it has bled
from state and country and continent,
the scarlet of a million lives
seeped through porous paper skin,
akin to the breached security of violated hearts,
severed arteries never to be rejuvenated
with the livelihood of broken nations -
left to weep,
wounds unhealable in the pained whirlpool of terror and tragedy.

A con man rolled into town,
With a funny looking wig.
Made a lot of promises,
Everything will be really big.

He claims he doesn’t like immigrants,
Says they cause a lot of strife,
But you certainly would never know,
By looking at his imported wife.

And he doesn’t like Muslims,
And forget it if you’re black.
And as for those pesky Mexicans,
He’s sending them all back.

He says he has a really big plan,
To cure America’s ills,
But you got to wonder about a guy,
Who can’t even pay his own bills.

He has experience in business,
His bankruptcies total four,
And with a temperament like his,
We’ll soon be in another war.

Spews a whole lot of hot air,
That he can improve the current state,
Never says anything definite,
But don’t worry it’ll all be great.

He wants to close the internet,
And the border to the South,
But if he’s going to close anything,
Please let it be his mouth.

Oh he makes a lot of promises,
And they’re all as fake as his hair,
And the saddest part about it,
Is his followers just don’t care.

07-31-16.