So what I helped a bit,
Turned a blind eye,
Have I not always taught him
To reach for the sky?

He’s a good boy,
Maybe just lost,
But he tries so darn hard
Little knowing the cost.

I must though admit
I too was quite thrown
By the sheer huge amounts
Of payments since shown.

And then here comes Trump
Full of his bluster,
Figuring we’re the Indians
And somehow he’s General Custer.

I know facts aren’t his bag,
He’s short with the truth,
But even he can’t deny
Custer’s end was uncouth.

Peppered with arrows,
Stripped to the skin,
A little demeaning
To want to be him?

But then I forget
The guy’s a big star
And with make-believe
He’s clearly gone far.

Time for a reckoning,
My boot’s on my foot
A strong upward kick
And he’ll surely stay put.