His squint faced gaze doth bring me so much shame.
Our nation’s founding fathers would decree,
no man shall cast a ballot in his name,
else liberty for all could never be,
The amber waves of grain do not compare,
so golden is the nature of his tresses.
Dear Willy’s Oompa Loompas stop and stare,
to see so bold an orange, which impresses.
I’d rather take a hammer to my face,
than listen to the heresies he states,
Hispanics, women . . . all who are disgraced,
do cry as one to send him to his fate.
So how to make our country “great” again?
Alas, there proves no options, where’s my gin?
Alas, there proves no options, where’s my gin?
I love this! Really funny, but also has the majestic tome of a sonnet!
ReplyDeleteVery funny imagery with his hair; your last syllable of line eight is unstressed
ReplyDeleteAg, this is very relatable. Funny but also depressing. I really like your last couplet. Also, lol'ing a lot at that picture.
ReplyDeletehaha I love it. The amber waves comparison is my favorite part!
ReplyDelete