The dullest man in history
Dances on his stage to a one-note tune.
A Hitler caricature, a diapered balloon.
As his plastic mannequin trails behind.
She pulls her hand and falls into line.
He lies; he cheats, he defies the law
A fading psychopath lurks near his Wall
He tweets out his insults and refuses the blame.
The same, the same, the childish, and inane
“Fake” and ‘failing,” and “Hillary,” and “liddle.”
He’s a comic book Jester, a juvenile riddle.
Now fewer enablers remain amused.
Too much transpired; too much excused.
Aside from a life of golfing and whoring
He simply has become too damn boring.
Wake me when he’s done.