Poetry about Donald Trump

A man. A man with an orange complexion.  One who has changed how many lives are lived in our country.
This is to America
You enter a farmer’s market There is a wide range of fruits
I feel emboldened My partisan senryu Bye O'No, hi Pomp
A mother,  looking down at her child, giving kisses to his forehead, and holding him close.
80,000.
There once was an Emperor with a very short temper who focused his attention on clothes.
Hey there old friend. Maybe friend isn’t the correct term, so allow me to rephrase. Hello old habit.
I swallow the pills, I chase them with the vodka given to me on my birthday 5 months ago. The tears stop

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