Rolph David
The Demagogue!
A figure stands, with vitriol and spite,In every word, in every fight,
No program, plan, nor noble goal,
But profits gained from nature's soul.
A twisted band of loyal cheer,
From those who hold their faith so dear,
It baffles minds, it breaks the heart,
How they can back his toxic art.
Evangelicals, with zealous praise,
Endorse his lies, his hateful ways,
How can they cheer his flawed charade,
When all their values are betrayed?
The working class, in hope they trust,
A man whose gold is cloaked in dust,
They see a savior in his claim,
Yet he’s the source of all their pain.
No charm, no wit, nor sage insight,
He barks and bites in endless fight,
A life of rage, his sole pursuit,
To mask the void, the absolute.
A clown in mask, with face so brown,
A toupee for a gilded crown,
He blames his flaws on others’ sin,
While hiding rot that lies within.
Trump loves falsehoods, lives constant lies,
A grandstander in thin disguise,
Hate has become his nature's core,
Malice and contempt, forevermore.
He craves his “alternative facts” so dear,
A blatherskite who distorts with cheer,
An impostor who twists what is true,
Calls truth “fake news” to mislead you.
He rails against those of darker hue,
His hate for minorities isn’t new,
He’s anti-women, anti-gay,
No respect for anyone in his way.
High society's twisted dream,
A Napoleon complex, so supreme,
In arrogance, he stakes his claim,
A hollow king, with none to blame.
Trump is no savior, no good man,
Not the Messiah of some grand plan,
No Samaritan with heart of gold,
But a deceiver, cruel and cold.
Four years of failure, blame displaced,
Each fault on others, he has traced,
A shell of naught, with shallow pride,
A tragic farce, with none beside.
The ghost of Shakespeare’s cruelest tale,
Outdone by Trump’s vile deeds and wail,
What do they see in this foul breed?
What fear, what hope, what desperate need?
History’s pages, lessons plain,
With tyrants' rise and freedom's wane,
Yet still they choose to close their eyes,
Ignoring all the past’s advice.
How can the sane, the wise, the strong,
Consider voting for this wrong?
An enigma to the rational mind,
A peril to all humankind.
He stirs, incites, and fans the flame,
Of hate and lies, with no true aim,
And worst of all, the masses cheer,
Blind to the path that leads to fear.
They march as lambs to slaughter’s gate,
In thrall to one whose heart breeds hate,
Their lives, like his, consumed by spite,
In darkness, they mistake for light.
Wake up before the final toll,
Before he steals your very soul,
He is no savior, no good man,
But a deceiver with a selfish plan.
He speaks not truth, but pure disdain,
He offers naught but endless pain,
He loves no one, but his own clan,
He’s his own god, his only fan.
Stop him now, before the end,
No more dictators to defend,
The world has borne enough of pain,
Let’s not descend to that again.
Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Rolph David.
Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 26.07.2024.
Der Autor
- Autorensteckbrief von Rolph David
- ronan.david
web.de(Spam-Schutz - Bitte eMail-Adresse per Hand eintippen!)
Leserkommentare (0)
Navigation
Vorheriger Titel Nächster Titel
Mehr aus der Kategorie "Politik & Gesellschaft" (Gedichte in englischer Sprache)
Weitere Beiträge von Rolph David
Hat Dir dieser Beitrag gefallen?
Dann schau Dir doch mal diese Vorschläge an:
The Chokehold of TwoTyrants - Rolph David (Politik & Gesellschaft)
Boules d´argent - Rainer Tiemann (Erinnerungen)