Dow In the Dumps.
As the stock market hit astronomical heights
Donald loudly and proudly took bragging rights,
Came February First and the worm began to turn;
Walls and Wall Street falling cause Don grave concern.
You know The Donald’s feeling sick
When he turns down the rhetoric.
Suddenly Donald’s loquacious lip is zipped,
His air as morose as that at the family crypt,
Donald’s brown study is as silent as a tomb,
A place of rare quiet contemplation, we assume?
Donald is rarely at a loss for something to say,
But Trump stock falling takes his breath away.
When Don’s face and the Dow continued to drop
His self-congratulatory words trundled to a stop,
From the Oracle, the one true prophet comes ‘nary a peep,
Dons sycophants wonder how long he’ll let his dumbness creep?
With his ego though, the silence will be all too brief,
But hasn’t this pause come as a blessed relief?