Poetry about Donald Trump

Many voices cry out in agony, Many voices are left out. Many voices are heard in the outrage,
My President is Me. That means that he black. That orange dude that y'all elected? Man, he wack.
Now who am I to say that I am learned beyond my years In time and blood  the holy flood
Free That was The promise Graduation Brought to the table Freedom to be myself
As I look back this past year At my old reflection I see a girl who was worried about what others thought of  her
People were buzzing Did you hear, did you hear what he said   They were tweeting 
Do we trust him NO Do we like him NO Is he safe controlling the country NO
We need to unite as a nation
  You know what grinds my gears I have a little brother who I must force to comprehend the fact that in this day and age BLACK LIVES DONT
It’s Not About Me Melissa Bruno-Piverger  

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