Trump stood with a grin, bold and breezy,
Called it “peace” though the facts were still queasy.
With no deal in sight,
He gave Bibi the right
To keep bombing 'til Hamas got appeasy.
Trump crowed, “It’s eternal, this peace!”
While the bombs in Gaza won’t cease.
No deal, just a show,
With a wink and a blow—
He greenlit the war with a fleece.
He declared himself Chair, full of flair,
Of a peace board that isn’t quite there.
With no terms agreed,
Just self-serving screed—
It was theater, thin as his hair.
Kushner and Blair took a stab,
At a plan that no one would grab.
With no sides on board,
It was praised and ignored—
Just a ghostwritten global rehab.
Blair and young Jared conspired,
To draft peace no one desired.
With ink still wet,
And no real threat—
Except more bombs when it backfired.
With Kushner and Blair at the helm,
Trump proclaimed peace for the realm.
Though no side had signed,
He still beamed and opined—
While chaos reigned over the film.
They cooked up a deal with no teeth,
Then Trump crowned it “Peace!” with a wreath.
While Blair grinned in back,
And Jared kept track—
Of the optics, not death on the heath.
I sat through the spin and the glare,
As Trump praised “great peace” from thin air.
No questions allowed,
Just back-pats and proud—
I escaped with my soul worse for wear.
I endured all the boasting and fluff,
While they peddled transparent bluff.
No deal, just a show,
With no facts to bestow—
I bailed when “Board Peace” was enough.
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