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Wake up with that cup of coffee
Notifications blasting up the phone
Incompetence from the Oval Office
Tired petty arguments of a 12 year old
When 100,000 are dead

Just admit it
You ****** up

Place the blame on anyone else, right?
That’s easy, right?
Distract the citizens with tweets
Conspiracy theories, lies, and deception
Democracy crumbling in this wonderful Republic

Do we have enough time to save this all?
Have we gone too far backwards?
Are we constrained?

Another black man dead by the hands of the state
But **** it, blue lives matter, right?
Blue lives ain’t a race
Would the president even bother to utter a word about it?
Nah, he’s racist as **** and don’t give a ****

The MSNBC host who didn’t ****** someone
Is more important
Waste time, who cares?
Millions unemployed
Open up the country because we are just human capital
Just numbers for the stock market, right?

Make profits for your rich pals
Leave office

I throw the cup of coffee on the ground
I’m tired
I’m so tired

Democracy is coming to the USA
...or at least I hope so.
**** trump, vote in November
Imagine there’s a painting
adorning the wall of some president’s master bedroom. It hangs
beneath a mirrored ceiling where his wife
(lucky her) gets to watch his pumping ****
wobble like a pale hairy jelly.

Let’s say it sits above a dozen nicotine silver wigs
on a perfect chesterfield dresser,
and maybe it gazes down, in lurid grey and gold:

a grinning Adolf ******
riding a merry go round of charging marble stallions,
one leather glove tightly gripping the reigns
the other waving at scores
of muscular blonde women
and heroic dead eyed men
with lantern jaws.

Let’s just say this now and get it out in the open
before it’s too late.
He had the right cards
mixed up in the playing deck
Friends are now All Foes
Anybody ever played All Foes (All Fours)?
Sally read of Trump sliding on his ****
Seventy days lapse of the virus bump
He pet the bull by the horn
While the virus spread was born
Sally's numbed being ****** off by a stump

Logan Robertson

Sally can only look at Trump's logic and leadership regarding the onset, which leaves her asking where are the tall oak trees.

Ylzm 6d
Zionism is Hagar, and Jerusalem is Ishmael
The Dome of the Rock is the Abomination
The little horn is plain to sight but unseen
And the Rock foreshadowed but again unseen

Ishmael's thorn deep in Issac's heart
Jerusalem never shall be again
But when, not if, the thorn is pulled
Earth shall gush blood as a heart ruptured

Can the wicked's blessings be good?
Does the wicked bless for good or evil?
Or is the blessed of the wicked just as accursed?
And thus Jerusalem blessed of Trump

But unseen, unknown, stronger by the day
The assembly is gathering as Mount Zion
Not one bone out of joint nor broken, fitly one
The Peace of Jerusalem, the Bride of God, awaits
Robert Ippaso May 20
Can't stand the man
Despise his sight
I hate him so
With all my might.

In all my years
Can't recall a time
I had to deal
With such vile slime.

A puffed up despot
A vain buffoon
His very sight
Spells doom and gloom.

My only solace
My one salvation
Ice cream for dinner
Enough to face the nation.

The sugar rush
That silken taste
Tempers my moods
If not my waist.

What do I care
Why should I cease
When I’ve revealed
Trump is morbidly obese.

I told the world
Made it quite clear
His health in mind
And not a smear.

The truth quite harsh
Sometimes it hurts
He needs cut down
McDonalds and desserts.

But not long now
Elections close
Watching with glee
Trump thrashing in death throws.

Joe's on the cusp
If only he knew
But with creeping dementia
He hasn't a clue.

So my plan's now enacted
All scheming and guile
To get rid of both
And rule with a smile.

I've earned it for sure
Endured with such class
Folks never guessed
I was such pure bad-***.
this Wuhan                                                            ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                    
towel made
avowal as
its chow
with Mao
where once
an owl
he'd cowl
his fowl
but his
jowl has
afoul but
this president
amid that
henchman made
law prowl
this accrual
Robert Ippaso May 10
What did I do, what Karma is this
Where is the power, the glory, the bliss,
I didn't sign up for this constant pain,
I'm losing my mojo, going insane.

I gave up a bunch, my whole pampered life,
The glittering lights, a model for wife,
A media in love, fans all around,
Success beyond words to truly astound.

The Don was the man, the king of the heap,
The world's superstars in my presence would steep,
Invites and connections too many to count,
Politicians included my patronage tantamount.

My wealth and prestige more radiant than gold,
Everyone buying whatever I sold,
From Casinos to Pageants, Hotels by the score,
Anything Trump they just wanted more.

And now what is this my world full of grind,
My presence and words despised and maligned,
Melania so mad I tiptoe at night,
To then sleep alone, a truly sad sight.

But what my recourse, I've little to say
What I would do, what would I pay
To rewind the clock, swallow my pride,
Stick to my golf and from politics hide.

Too late for all that, I'm in to my neck
Just hoping and praying to avert a train wreck,
History's blunt it favors the winners,
No pity or quarter for ambitious beginners.

So here's the game plan, my only real shot
To well clear my name and wipe out this blot,
Another four years that's what I so need
For me to yet prove that I truly can lead.

And lead I sure will despite that grim bunch,
I'll use my fine guile peppered with hunch
To ram home the point beyond any doubt,
That I am the one with God-given clout.
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