(Editor's note: Gazette columnist George Templeton took a break from his discerning essays to pen this poem:)
Ode to Donald
By George Templeton
What could have been or would have been?
James Allen must have thought.
When character and virtue lapse
Our choice, the cosmos split.
The road we take, our Minds mistake.
The path cannot discern.
But Trump is Mind, and now he twists
the truth of fact, It’s news no more.
And, believing what he feels:
A myriad fear, a love that hates, a friend of many more.
Neither sympathy or empathy to outward see the core.
Self-reference is his truth, Humility has no place.
His mind he knows, that’s all there is, inside there is no more.
His secret thoughts, our apprenticeship, give birth to reverence.
Neither policy nor friend, just MAGA synchronized.
An authentic leader, the thing itself, realities coalesce.
The real deal’s Donald, He only matters to himself.
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