Trump wants to serve all folk, not just felons,
***-offenders, serial liars,
and duped jailed rioters, the oil barons,

The gun-advocates, scammers, those who con
like big sick pharma, and favour byers,
Trump wants to serve all folk, not just fellons.

And those who wish public schools, the DOJ gone,
and the rich demanding to be richer,
and duped, jailed, rioters, the oil barons,

Not just big businesses filling prisons  
gifts from " jail-the-homeless-scotus-lifers"
Trump wants to serve all folk, not just felons,

And not just those who'd see the weak trodden on
not just faux religious bible pounders,
and duped jailed rioters, the oil barons,

Not just the beasts who'd keep down the women
Or apologists for killer dictators,
Trump wants to serve all folk not just felons
And duped jailed rioters, the oil barons...

I regaled my land with thunderings of merriment          
lighting my dark chuckles with bright flash of wit,          
I tickled trees, seas, oceans, till my joke was spent          
then rested to gather strengths to blow my season's blitz.          
Now I blast you foul storms your puny ambitions befit,          
as I reign over you tempestuously  crack and clap          
your puny stone buildings I will blast and split          
and rend your clothes and silly flags to scraps, as they flap...          
        
I blame you, you blustering creatures, for downpouring of my ire          
you forever chasing seasons of ease,          
climbing up for the secret of eternal fire,        
to power your life and turn my gales to balmy breeze...    
How dare you make my clouds weep, with stormy seeds,          
I am the life spreading Storm, you cannot control,          
I view you shower as a damping turbulent disease          
but, it may be, you do have a role?          
        
I will blow you down to a gory smear          
across your burnt and blasted arid lands,          
till nothing remains not even a tear          
then scour you gone with my whirlwinding sands.        
Your poisoned flesh, not fit for Earth's viands,          
but your bones, your dry bleached bones        
will nourish my green and pleasant sphere,          
till then I shall weather your howling, squalid, moans.

It'll be sixty year ago quite soon
that one idea sparked a million folk,
to pull together to put guys on the moon
such a feat could never be a joke,
as from that moon a human spoke
and a billion people listened  
to a message, from a static sparked croak,
and in many eyes, I bet, tears glistened...

And now, today, there's another idea  
to recruit one hundred thousand poll watchers,
under the guise of fair and free elections, here,
I must say fraud was bawled by the loser,
their loser status upheld by all court rulers  
but this time round they will try to twist all laws
guided by several of their chief law abusers,  
in aid of their, unholy, cause.

They'll tell any lie, ally with any gang
no price is too high life will be sacrificed,
powered by the GOP's most foulest man
where only total subjugation will suffice  
who's promised hell-on-earth not paradise  
a gangster and America's blight...
The moon landing, just a different generation?
Nah, sadly, at the mo' a completely different nation...

My life stopped when my  Mother died  
but not so much when Pa past on,  
I tried to grieve I tried and tried  
my life stopped when my Mother died,  
  
I harmed myself I cried and cried  
how could you do this to me... gone?  
My life stopped when my Mother died  
but not so much when Pa past on...

Are you saying sorry now  
to all the folk inside your head,
for all the rotten stuff you did
but it's too late now, 'cause they be dead?

Sorry, sorry, to Moma
sorry, sorry, to Papa too,
saying sorry to that old neighbour  
for all the rottenness I did to you.

And the brother and the sister
god, I dare not go there,
and how the hate of self rises
up is almost too much to bear...

And when I am gone, gone far away
from all the rotten things I've said and done,
will folk say sorry to me in their heads
and will I hear, not even one?