Limericks, Trumped Up

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Poems

There is no doubt that some will not like the content of this little chain of Limericks, but the guy made his own bed. And besides, I'm old and don't give a tittle. --- My Mother always said, "If you can't be a good loser, then you never deserve to win.

I'm sorry, I meant for this poem to be shorter

But his story is ripe for the National Reporter.

He's all full of lies,

Innuendos in disguise,

And not worth an electrician's quarter.




This billionaire doesn't seem too smart,

He's acting all spoiled, like a childish old fart.

Selling dreams to the masses

From rally-like classes,

All the while he is lacking a heart.


He lies to his fans, and they love it.

His lies and untruths, they covet.

He's gotten deep in their head

And like Barnum once said,

Those kind are born every minute.


He could accepted defeat like a man

While boasting his policies and plan.

His Legacy would have been strong

And as time went along

He'd be remembered as no flash in the pan.


But no, the Brat lashed out!

Now I can see what he's really about,

He's like Dorthy's little Lion,

Always ah cry-in,

And taking the coward's way out.


So he hides in the White House today,

Lining things up, I dare say.

With no regard for the masses

And a nation in crisis,

He took his Bat and refuses to play.



JE Falcon


Submitted: November 21, 2020

© Copyright 2020 JE Falcon. All rights reserved.

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