Ode of Trump

None did know, oh black sun,
The sackcloth and ashes that would be won.
Across the Potomac, like the Rubicon
Came 400 soldiers, of American sons.
They broke the law, for law was moot;
The only glory was to be fat, not the lute.
Sing oh harp, of American fame…
The poet who some said had no shame.
For his crimes were there for all to see,
As Trump came down with heavy handed liberty.
Bodies stacked high, as the woman gave thumbs,
Democrats persecuting Republicans.
Then came Trump, like a bolt from the sky
He persecuted all that were ever wise.
Who comes next, it is Washington’s curse
Of what happens when we put party first.