Donald’s ending his year in his own inimitable way. As a weary caravan of refugees troop towards his USA, he’s sending out his own troops to welcome them.

Northern Lights.

Through the barren desert, dry and parched
The rag tag rebellious revolutionaries marched,
Towards the Grande prize they’d set their course-
To be met by Dons army and promises of lethal force.

Among the weary mothers and children Don has detected
Gangs of ‘bad guys’ from whom his States must be protected,
Now at the border his good ol’ boys look out, keen and alert,
They’re gonna protect his holy ground from the Mexican dirt.

It was late in the year, late at night on the Twenty Fourth
A keen-eyed trooper saw a sinister bearded figure heading north,
A flare went up, then a shot, then fusillades filled the air-
Donald would’ve been proud to see the rockets’ red glare.

The sun rose on a smouldering desert, deathly still,
The soldier boys had indulged in a bit of over-kill,
By the border fence, battered and broken as a pinata
Lay the latest sad-sack border hopping bloody martyr.

No one gets in the Great States undocumented,
But this is one under fire Alien who’ll be long lamented,
Sadly for the good children North of the border wall
Santa is officially late, and henceforth, unable to call.

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