To Battle Him For The Republic Poem by The Trumpoet

Mine eyes hath seen the horror of the rise of Donald Trump.
Mine ears hath heard his vitriol he spews from on the stump.
If you believed his ramblings, he took you for a chump.
His 'truth's' near always wrong.

Lordy, lordy did he fool ya?
With his con job did he school ya?
Now you'll have to let him rule ya.
Now that your chance has gone.

He swept past sixteen wannabes and claimed the G.O.P.
Surrounded now by sycophants, and yes-men who'll agree
with whatever harmful, hateful, hurtful law that he'll decree.
His ego marches on.

Sorry, sorry, such an awful lesson learned.
By protest through the ballot box, the whole world has been burned.
A tyrant's come to power, with the facts and truth adjourned.
His tyranny goes on.

But I say there is hope my friend to right this wrong, you see.
Will you rise in righteous protest and recite this rhyme with me?
And let it help remind you of the past when you were free.
With hope, we shall move on!

Glory, glory when we weather this dark storm,
glory for us once again, when love becomes the norm.
When we have ousted ignorance in every evil form.
And truth goes marching on.