Poetry about Donald Trump

Bushmen Safaris
The Jazz of My Life is the reason I'm up late
(poems go here) As I sit back, reminisce, and wonder why, why I am who I am,
“Gentlemen of the jury, here I bring you now A man charged with murder; a fair trial he was allowed
you told me that you wouldnt do this shit again, what happened?  you were supposed to be my friend.
Oprah, what do you need all that money for? Bey and Jay, why do you're tickets cost so much for your tour?
Overbearing as I may be, my heart is all kind and all sweet, yet why can I find a single girl with good intentions when we meet?
Gentlemen of the jury, here I bring you now A man charged with murder; a fair trial he was allowed

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