Fuck Donald Trump, A Love Letter
Fuck Donald Trump.
I’ll be the millionth man to say it.
I’ll say it once,
I’ll say it twice,
so you won’t need to replay it.
Fuck Donald Trump,
your hair looks like a bleached skunk,
and your face looks like the leather couch I sunk in to a minute ago
but I hope you know your face isn’t the reason
you ain’t winnin’ this race.
No, there’s far more there to ensure you lose your case.
You chase Hillary around the stage like a dog
without a bone, but if you were really a grown man,
you'd stand down.
And at what cost? A wave of intolerance and a loss
of civility? At what point do we find the ability to see
through his vision of hell and in to tranquility?
He breathes hostility and possibly cocaine too,
who knew being such a vain piece of shit
required a quick fix, chicks don’t really love ya
cause you’re a fucking dick, so quit whining
that the game is rigged since your name
earned you more media spots than your policies
ever did. You played the game, now they’re trying to wash their hands of the stains
you left behind. I’m sure you’ll find a new business to
bankrupt or another industry to corrupt when you
get torched in a few weeks. I hope I speak for most
of us when I say you’re a creep and I hope
you lose sleep like you lose elections.
Go fucking vote.