Dear Mister President…

Dear Mr. President… I’ve been so hesitant to do this,
But your petulant sentiment is evident. So let’s get to it;

And my hesitancy wasn’t about your presidency,
But I had friends, ya see, down on bended knee…

Worshiping you like you were some worthy idol,
As if “Supreme Being Creator” was a part of your title;

And I love my friends. So I stayed outta the noise,
But then you said a little something ‘bout my girls and my boys;

You opened your flapping mouth and let the words come out,
Cuz ya thought you were in a meeting that no one would hear about;

And when the truth was heard, you’re so narcissistic and vile,
Ya started tweeting and believing your own ridiculous denial;

And you’ve convinced yourself and all of your loyal followers,
Ya know — the thousands and thousands of kool-aid swallowers,

That you’re a leader… and your brains not hollower,
Than the halls you’re in, ya filthy self wallower;

It’s like you woke up one day at the helm of a great country,
And thought to yourself, “Hmmm — how funny would it be?”

“If I drove this place directly into the ground?”
“And I can do it — cuz I’m the most stable genius around!”

Man… shut up. Just shut up and stop talking,
Stop expressing contempt and ridicule… stop mocking!

Did you even count the cost of this? Running for these offices?
You’ve been a fountain of nauseousness in all of your caucuses;

A perverted purveyor of hate disguised as “Let’s make it great!”
Subverted betrayer of state — despised for the lies you make;

You’ve made us the laughing stock of the whole entire globe,
There’s gotta be something wrong inside of your frontal lobe;

My 6 year old won’t eat breakfast and often pees in his bed,
But he has way more sense than you do inside of your head;

And guess what, man? This is gonna make ya frown,
That 6 year old who’s wiser than you? He’s BROWN.

You’re a racist bigot fool — trying to run the USA,
But you’re not fit for the role — go try on the KKK;

You’d be a wizard that’s grand if you land with the Klan,
And have a blizzard of fans all around ya man…

And speaking of your fans — you’ve given ’em carte blanche,
To flaunt their hate around — and man your fans are staunch;

Committed to your cause from the start and the lies that come with it,
Or committed to their own heart and the hate inside of it;

And worse than your fans are the silent middle grounders,
Afraid to raise their voice even a little — so they just flounder;

“If I denounce his crazy ways — will I then fly the coop?
Will I still get invited to my church dinner group?”

“What if I stand out when I stand up and shout?”
So instead… CRICKETS… and I’m left to doubt;

Where they stand or what they feel when they look at my crew,
Because my crew — if you ain’t noticed — doesn’t look much like you;

But you don’t get this. And I don’t think that you care,
You’re more into blonde hair and complexion that’s fair;

So you do you, chump. And I’mma keep doing me,
Counting years through my tears — we’re down to T-minus three…

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