You call me the anti-Christ miracle.
I label you stupid, unoriginal.
Ramble on cause you have no tact.
Just a fascist who pretends lies are facts.
Firing insults like a child.
Your vocabulary so stunted that its wild.
Have no clue how to be decent.
All you care about is gaining power absolute.
Can’t hold a book like a normal person.
Clear you never do rehearsing.
All off the cuff and it shows your mental.
Old misogynist with an IQ in the gutter.
Brain so empty and yet full of clutter.
Doesn’t feel so good when others fling mud too.
Well get used to it you utter buffoon.
Cause clearly you are way past being a simple loon.
I know you believe your own cavernous hype.
A soul filled with nothing but spite.
Trying to bully everyone you can into submission.
Only time you can make a not stolen decision.
Weak and feeble yet acting tough.
Your failures should leave you feeling rough.
Bankrupt at least half a dozen times.
Even been found guilty of committing crimes.
Narcissist who believes in fairytales.
Pompous and without an ounce of humour.
All you speak are false rumour.
Yet I’m the demon who threatens your story.
A villain that needs to fall to your glory.
Delusional as well as cruel.
Enjoy your demise as you fall, fool.
You’re no Jesus Christ, you megalomaniac!
Wrapped in cloth dyed red, white and blue.
They’ve started to bleed because of you.
Decency wiped away by your infestation.
Only time you show some dedication.
Poisoning the well like a true autocrat.
Elderly entity who still acts like a brat.
Wanting me to be a sacrifice to your new world disorder.
You’re the one who dodged the draft order.
Spitting hate wherever you set foot.
About as Christian as any other crook.
Incoherent in your structure.
Wanting to go back to scripture.
But one key difference would be made.
You are to be he who is always obeyed.
Preying instead of praying.
Comparable to a snake oil salesman.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 