Don’t tether, cage, lest it, break free
From the ramparts, of our, restive souls
Beyond pride, that transcends, lunacy
There’s trumpery, of, hyped hyperboles!
He’s the convict, of his, convictions
But so are we, sans a, public trial
We are sums, of our, contradictions
Who find, God’s guile, in Satan’s smile!
Who does not, fancy, damning world
For its malice, prejudice, and injustice
When he did, with panache, we slammed it, “turd”
Our bigotry, is a, Judas kiss!
We too, want to, live out, of our skin
No matter, what might, cost that sin!
A faith is that, which fights, our fear
What if, with shades, ignominious
Will outlast us, our deep, dark affair
The Trump, That Squirms, In All Of Us!
© 2021 Vikas Chandra
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