The demise of King Trumpkin

They called it strength, but they were wrong.
Self-love is weak – it can’t be strong.
This narcissistic Trump’s one whim:
That all of us should worship him.

There’s only some truth in this view
If ever we believe him too.

A home-grown abomination
Selfish king, deluded nation.
Behind the throne, a selfish sect,
Not drawn by love, nor intellect,
They’re driven by self-interest
Pretending hard to seem impressed.
But, unlike us, they realise
It’s all fool’s gold, just empty lies
Smoke and mirrors, mere illusion
Fuelling this weak king’s delusion.

For Trumpkin knows, right to his core
That THIS is what mankind is for
To worship HIM, as is his right;
To serve him;
To create his might.

No different, now, to days gone by.
Though none of us can quite see why
So many serfs agree to serve.
So get the master they deserve.

All are equal. None is master.
Tyranny begets disaster.

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