They line up on Dons White House floor, blithely unaware they’re standing on the trap door.

The Revolving Door.

Michael Flynn strode through Dons welcoming door
Little knowing the rapid turnaround he had in store.

Gone, thanks to Russian lies,
Don could only sympathise.

James Comey said his FBI would find more, much more;
Then, ignominiously HE was fired, a sort of Flynn encore.

I guess to James this came as no surprise,
He wouldn’t stop his his ears or avert his eyes.

In January we’d heard Spicers Trumpian oratory loftily soar,
By July he’s silently tumbling down a white House corridor.

For someone who’d praised Don to the skies
His departure didn’t move Don to eulogise.

Reince Priebus was looking down the barrel to be number four-
Now he’s gone and followed the footsteps of those gone before.

Amongst the few muted old guard GOP cries
Scaramucci’s howl of delight was hard to disguise.

Then a measly ten days after Don had unleashed his dog of war
The Mooch was torn from Dons side, despite the oath he swore.

Privately, Don admits his own picks seem unwise;
Who to trust to keep away prying eyes, and the FBI’s?

On which trusty loyal loyal pool of sycophantic fawning foo- fans to draw?
Don knows a Great deal as it dawns on him- THAT’S what family’s for.

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