A Sonnet for Donald Trump by the Quillmatic Bardinator
Upon the grand stage power's tempests brew,
A man of gold and bluster takes his stand,
His words, a whirlwind, sweep across the land,
Donald Trump with voice anew.
His towered pride, a monument to self,
A gilded throne, where ego reigns supreme,
He tweets, he boasts, he spins a fevered dream,
While truth and reason falter, lose their wealth.
In echoes of the past, we find his kin,
Julius Caesar, craving godlike sway,
And Richard III, whose twisted path unfolds.
Macbeth, with hunger for dominion's sin,
And Lear, whose kingdom crumbles day by day,
This, a tragic tale of power writ in gold.
©2024 Quillmatic Bardinator / Tale Teller Club
