The Buck Stops Here Poem by Darwin Henry Beuning
The Buck Stops Here
President Donald Trump
Lives in a glass White House
Where everyone looks in
But, he cannot see out.
Surrounded by 'Yes' men at every turn
The lines between right and wrong
Become blurred.
Comey, 'You're Fired'
Jim, don't feel bad,
You're not the first
and you won't be the last.
I feel what bothers
President Trump the most
In the quiet of the night
Is, By His Hand
He delivers Death
With the stroke of a pen.
Another timely poem for this political year written with emotion and showing compassion to our President. This poem left me with a deep urgency to pray for our President and lift him up as he does hold the most powerful position in the world.
Hank, the only way I keep up on current events is by reading your poems. You are the Poet of Current Events. Thanks. This one is well done. A ten.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 6:19:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
04: 09am, Sunday,27 September. Even more so now, in this Virus World.37 days until 3 November, Then America will decide who stands and who falls.