It is reported that Donald Trump held a press conference at which he blamed journalists for making up fake news stories and undermining his planned happy and cooperative relationship with Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin.
Oh Donald Trump! Now where to start?
His name in England means a fart,
And some might say that’s rather apt,
’Cos he has not seemed to adapt,
From a campaign which was a joke,
To learning he should not provoke,
World leaders and – I have to stress –
Above all not all the world’s press.
He blames the Press for all his woes,
And when to talk to them he goes,
Should one of them a question ask,
He then takes him or her to task,
For having from him different views,
And then for publishing fake news.
“But Sir,” the journalists reply,
“Just give an answer, don’t be shy,
And we will publish what you say,
So you’ll know if it’s fake, OK?”
But Donald doesn’t like this plan,
He rubbishes it when he can,
And really quite devoid of shame,
He looks for someone else to blame.
So first up he points out the mess,
Which as you will now surely guess,
He did inherit and some more,
From presidents who went before.
And now he’s got that off his chest,
He can move straight on to the rest,
And say it is the Press’s fault,
If Mr Putin calls a halt,
To friendly talks that he had planned,
’Cos bad reports he cannot stand.
But some, no doubt, say that’s unfair,
For Putin likely doesn’t care,
What is said in the foreign press,
Or if it’s true – well, more or less.
But Trump still thinks it’s an excuse,
For something that was little use,
And which he only said would work,
Because at heart he is a berk.
We will see more complaints in time,
So do return to read in rhyme,
Where it will stop we cannot know,
But in the end the man will go.
Image – Wikipedia