A Political Poem

In the last time we learnt how a politician

complete his mission. A billionaire with blond hair

is now our mental nightmare.

With some cement,

he´ll build a wall,

around his great America!

No Latino, no Mexican

should come in his country.

This is his goal.

Lost he control of mind, body and soul?

„America first!“ is his device,

but his heart is cold like ice.

He and Obama, it´s a open drama

and the first act hasn´t even started.

But he´s not alone:

On the other side oft he ocean,

his best friend in Moscow

is waiting with devotion.

And what can we forecast?

Oh, I call it global warming.

The anthropological global warming.

And America?

America is a low pressure area.

That´s the reason why my headache can´t disappear.

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