Your face is so ugly
Your mom is so ugly
Your dad is so ugly
Your sister is so ugly
Your brother molested you
Your uncle bought you a beer
Your aunt slapped you for telling the truth.

You have turned into an internet troll.
No fault of your own, your anti-social behavior.
You were molested after all so lashing out on
the internet is an unhealthy replacement for therapy,
but you can't talk to your family, so nobody can advise
you to seek counseling, so you smoke a vape and support
Donald Trump and call everyone who might like Obama
the devil and it was all because your family ******.

In the beginning there was god and god said this person
will be ordained to troll the internet and that person was you!

Late night and the bed sheet is a noose
and I haven’t slept since November
and I toss and turn in the grey hum of grief--counting votes like sheep
and the nightmare won’t let go of me
and I don’t know who to trust
cause even the un-trustworthy don’t
know who they are
or recognize themselves in each other
and I like fewer and fewer people
in this rural town
and my PTSD is back
and I can attest to that.  

And I think:  This is how those folks in Dallas felt the day evil grew legs and walked along
Elm Street.

And what weighs more:  A hundred votes or a hundred bullets?

And you ruined my America and,
no…I won’t forgive you.                      

By:  evelyn augusto                               November 15th 2016

The following poem is a generalization, on that, we can likely agree,
but this is the way that most Trumpists appear, to many a person like me:*


Dear Trumpists, I am here to say I think I understand
just what you're really all about across the troubled land.
It really bugs you, does it not, when walking in your town,
to see so many people with a skin of black or brown?

To hear a foreign language when the immigrants converse.
To see them in a headscarf or a turban makes you curse.
Their differences, their ways of life, you see as disrespect
and you hate being asked to be "politically correct".

Then one day came a savior shining brighter than the sun.
His name was Donald Trump and you knew he was the one.
You knew you must support him 'cause in every speech he'd give,
he'd validate your hate and he'd fit with your narrative.

"The Mexicans are rapists", "The Muslims seek to ****",
"Black lives don't matter quite so much". Such thoughts gave you a thrill.
Sometimes he was outrageous. You could not trust every word,
but vote for him you did because you felt you had been heard.

Well, now your man's in power and it's no longer fun,
with half his staff revolting (and that's in more ways than one).
He hasn't drained the swamp, it's just become further bogged down,
with all his slimy yes-men there to praise the orange clown.

He comes across as ignorant and looking like a fool.
He's subject to fact-checking and resulting ridicule.
The press, it has a field day and comedians rejoice.
His opponents have united and have found a common voice.

Dear Trumpists, I do understand that this has made you mad,
but sense and reason don't support the notions that you've had.
So you rant on social media with foul, insulting fits,
like a bunch of whining, shouting, howling, idiotic twits.

So Trumpists, don't you realize, your chance has passed you see?
Oppression has been in decline since the end of slavery.
So here's a new idea that I'd really like to share:
You might try something different by showing that you care.

Why don't you go extend a hand to those that you attack.
They might provide you insight that you desperately lack.
Just open up your heart and head and throw away the hate,
and America once more could be a nation that is great.

In this vast world
I thank you by word
These people who chose to spend
And nuture talents that bend
For you knew
That there was something new
That could rot while fresh
Talents of the young,minds still fresh
Not enough to say
Attention you pay
Your time you sacrifice
Us you service
Broader even you grow
Your territories shall ever grow
The world shall worship you
Like for me I celebrate In a ewe
Just for my success to join you
To all poets in here
Let us remain to teach here
Comments that never cease
A good to defend case
Success in this field to achieve
And die to the archive
For the ever new
In the years,more or few
To know
You ever existed
And
Somehow touched someone somewhere