Share it Please
His squint faced gaze doth bring me so much shame,
no amount of money could you pay me,
to cast my ballot in that dreadful name.
Adams, Franklin . . . Our fathers would decree,
the amber waves of grain do not compare,
to the swooping nature of his tresses.
Dear Willy's Oompa Loompas stop and stare,
so bold an orange, which so impresses.
I'd rather take a hammer to my face,
than listen to the heresies he states.
Hispanics, women . . . all he abases
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?
So, I'm clearly not proficient at writing sonnets, as I did not do the Drumpf the justice he so deserved. I was especially struggling with line eight. I could not formulate a line that completed line seven, yet still rhymed with the perniciously difficult word, "tresses." Dang Nabbit. I might just have to revise both lines. What do ya'll think?