Trump Wins; Nation Loses (2-Verse Limerick)
An odious person has won,
So my hope for our nation’s undone.
I am stunned by the con
Accomplished by Don.
Has the advent of End Times begun?
The fact that a Trump can prevail
Tells a sad and dispiriting tale
Of a country that’s filled
With ill will, bound to build
Something vile … and to virtue derail.
Tags: Donald Trump, Election 2016, Presidential Election
This entry was posted
on Wednesday, November 9th, 2016 at 3:02 pm and is filed under Campaign Humor, Donald Trump, Election Satire, GOP Humor, Political Limericks, Political Verse, Politics Satire, Republicans Humor, White House.
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS
2.0 feed.
Both comments and pings are currently closed.
Brilliant!!
I recommend the 16 years old Simpsons episode President Lisa Simpson.
Lisa just became President. Her predecessor was Donlad Trump who had
ruined the country financially. Only financially?
Best wishes
Heri
A limerick isn’t a limerick when the meter is incorrect. The # of syllables per line must be X-X-Y-Y-X where X can be 7-8-9 and Y can be 5-6-7. Pretty simple guidelines that any elitist Democrat should be able to follow…
Hey Limerick Boy! It sounds like you know as little about limericks, as you do about Trump and our nation in general.
But just in case you’d like to learn something about limerick writing, here’s my article: How To Write A Limerick.
Hope you’re enjoying your cocky, ill-informed life.
Limerick Boy – – WTF are you talking about? Oh never mind. It’s just some more made up ‘bullschitt’ as usual from you right wingers.
Too Hard for a Boy (to Understand) ~
We have proof that an idiot’s loose,
Who demands, with poetic abuse,
That we all Must obey
His draconian way
Because Limericks are rigid, not loose.
I Bwoke My Wittle Verse ~
When you’re losing, it’s often the norm,
To complain your opponent broke form
Of the structure of verse –
Heavens! What could be worse? –
But this argument fails each quor’m.
Do Over! Do Over! ~
When reading a Limerick, some say,
That the rhythm has gang aft a’gley.
You may need to restart,
Reading Limerick’s an art,
And beginnings will start how they may.
He Said, Schmee Said ~
A dispute about what’s the right rhythm,
May cause irreversible schithm,
But most often, the root
Of this heated dispute
Is the difference ‘twixt her view and hithm.
Wait! Wait! Don’t Go There! ~
An adage says “form follows function.”
For some, this means there’s an injunction
Against all deviation –
They Hate consternation.
Wit screws their poetic compunction.
Bury Me Not Yet, Contrary ~
You’ll find that I’m not here to bury,
But to praise what I find literary:
A Limerick, most pure
That will surely endure,
Though a pundit suggests the contrary.
Deep Entendres of the Right Kind ~
The young lad wanted pie in the sky,
And he soon found the Right kind of guy,
Who would stick in his thumb,
And then twiddle him bum,
So he said, “What a brown nose have I!”
Entendres of a Trumpet ~
The Boy Wonder would’st growl, but he squeeks:
Lim’rick Baby spouts nonsense that reeks.
While the trump in his cleft
Splays his cheeks right and left –
Toothless mouth spits and shits when it speaks.
“At the Signpost Up Ahead, Take a Sharp Right,
and Enter – the Darkening Zone” ~
Well, your Poetic License has run outta luck:
Without taking a test, it cost less than a buck.
Even Limerick form
Which once had a strict norm,
Needs much tighter control, ‘cause the World’s gone amuck.