Saturday 23 June 2012

Donald's Ditty.

'Why do I think I know you?’
Said the Trump man to the flea.
‘You’re small and insignificant
And not at all like me.’

The flea hopped onto Donald’s nose
And winked his little eye.
He took a breath and spoke his truth
And gave him this reply:

‘You recognise the type, my friend.
We both have such a knack
Of bleeding people dry, you know,
While giving nothing back.’

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