General Discussion

There once was a figure online,
Who ranted at quarter past nine.
Short posts by the score,
Then a hundred more—
A tempest in furious design.

Trump's bluster concealed something dire,
A furnace of flickering fire.
Not courage nor might,
But shadows at night—
A mansion constructed of fear.

He strutted with towering pride,
Yet trembled the moment inside.
For myths built so tall
Can suddenly fall
When truth will no longer abide.

He lived in a realm all his own,
A kingdom of ego alone.
Not bonds we create,
But deals he would rate—
A world where no empathy’s shown.

Now sensing his story unwind,
He rages at fate unkind.
For facades finely spun
Can all come undone—
And leave only ruins behind.

And so, as the nation grows tense,
With stakes that are nothing but immense,
We brace for the hour
When bluster meets power,
And history casts its suspense.