There once was a child named Trump,
He spent most days on his rump.
Whining and dining and bossing about,
The little men would all come to his shout.
Trump found no joy in this lavish of lives,
Despite his attempts with a number of wives.
The little men, they did not notice his woes
Any man that dared try was seen as a foe.
He made his fortune on tricks, lies and deceit,
Men who dared stand in his way, would be beat.
Trump spent his life cheating and playing the con,
The little men were in awe, or just never caught on.
Now Trump, being Trump, wanted more than his share,
He bullied, trampled and caught weak in his snare.
If any man challenge, he would just condescend,
Never once thinking that there could be an end.
Trumps final move was an arrogant play,
He decided he wants to be King for a day.
The little men cheered and thought they had won,
“He will remember our loyalty it can’t be undone!”
Spicer, Manafort, Priebus, Corallo, and Flynn,
Trump’s little men are all tossed in the bin.
He will cover his tracks no matter the lost,
Even if the whole kingdom must suffer the cost.
Ryan, McConnell, just hope for a win,
Forgetting that their idleness is clearly a sin.
Little men, they too, hold on to Trump’s lies,
Not knowing their kingdom wishes them goodbye.
But Trump, being Trump, has no conscience at all,
Blinded by power and greed, he will fall.
History will not remember him well,
As for his little men, in his shadow, they dwell.