The Midas Touch

Everything you have touched

You think has

Turned to gold

Your golden tower

On 5th Ave.

Your name in bold

Now you sit

On 1600 Pennsylvania Ave

In those quiet moments

You cry

You thought this

To be easy

To run the country

With flair

What you have

Forgotten

Is This country

Is shared

By black and white

Asians and Sikhs

Muslims and Indians

We don’t

Bow at your feet

Mexicans and Arabs

You seem to have scorned

What you don’t get

This is where we’re born

This isn’t your company

We aren’t your

Employees

We are individuals

With different beliefs

For which you can’t see

All you see is gold

Shiny and bright

Every thing you touch

Has now

Become a blight

A Deteriorating fungus

That you are

Decrepit and old

But you think

You’re a star

Delusional and pompous

Narcissistic and maligned

Leave the Oval Office

And just RESIGN…