A.H. Scott: Fairy Tales & Four Years

Trump_Impeach_portrait_artist_Christopher_Suici_manchild_crazy_people_insane_fairy_tales_four_years
IMPEACH!
 

 

Poetry by A. H. Scott, Copyright 2017

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Portrait of Trump: Christopher Suciu, Copyright 2017

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FAIRY TALES & FOUR YEARS

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Mumble, Fumble, Grumble, Stumble, Gamble and Ramble

Grimm soul is putting us all in a shamble

Eyes so cold, belies a sorrow untold

Takin’ a boy from the borough of Queens and lettin’ him play in the towers of glass and metal has a score to settle

Fee-fi-fo-fum! Look at how far Son of a Drumpf has come!

Overcompensation and exaggeration can’t be held back from his forked tongues’ pout

It’s his world now, ya’ better watch out

More dangerous than a hydrogen bomb, is what comes out of his mouth

Only thing he’s spinning is a yarn of lies

Encased in tacky gold is his puny heart

Turn on the castle lights and them beady eyes shift into diamonds

Son of a Drumpf thinks when he awakens in the morn the revolving planet around him starts

Not so fast, false fool of obliviousness

There are still a few of us out here who calls ’em as we see’s ’em

He peddles it well, he shovels it deep

Cult of the Cotton Candy hair is in a trance-like sleep

Decorum be damned, as he thumps his chest and puts fear in the marrow of anyone in his wake

False Prophet of Populist rage snarls as he stomps across the world stage

The game he knows well, as the media tries to keep up

But, the liar of golden fluff is a cold-blooded prick who gets off on being tough

Grumble, grumble, mumble, and fumble

This ain’t no fairy tale, kiddies

Lady Conway and Count Barron stroke the throne

Egomaniac with a stranglehold on false facts has taken truth out back for 400 whacks

Nauseating nightmare is what we all are living

Just remember it’s only the beginning

Ain’t even been two months

Survive the day, survive the night

Batten down the hatches, cuz’ this is gonna’ be one hell of a fight

1,460 days might be too far in sight

Four years? Four years?

Am I losing my mind?

Oh, no Alice…only down the rabbit hole this nation has gone

Positioned pieces upon Destiny’s chessboard, we are now the pawn

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About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by A. H. Scott, go here:https://tonywardstudio.com/blog/h-scott-trumps-inaugural-address/

 

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