Poetry about Donald Trump
2016, What a year to be alive
Shoutout to Future, I don’t think those lyrics will ever die
My President is Me. That means that he black.
That orange dude that y'all elected? Man, he wack.
Many voices cry out in agony,
Many voices are left out.
Many voices are heard in the outrage,
Free
That was
The promise
Graduation
Brought to the table
Freedom to be myself
January
Cold air and snow
My favorite season
The music is so loud you can feel the ground shake
As I look back this past year
At my old reflection
I see a girl who was worried about what others thought of her