I KNOW HE CAN’T FLY


How did he rise so high?

I know he can’t fly.

Is he the joker, too,

Doing dastardly deeds

And pretending to be true?

He is a poor example

For a nation to follow.

He spouts obscenities

And his truths are hollow.

Where is the would-be king

Who looks after his sheep?

Maybe he’s in Russia fast asleep.

He demands the right

To speak his mind,

While insisting those that differ

Remain mute and blind.

He ignores minorities

Unless they wear white,

And the rest of the free

Should stay in at night.

There’s a rumor about a national purge,

He might be the only one left

If he gets the urge.

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