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Trumped

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The clock ticked by and the hours passed. The days, they were numbered, this may be the last.

The clouds would roll in if he were to win, and the oceans would gush as we fled in a rush.

The sky would turn gray on this awful day. 

The lightning would zoom and the thunder would boom.

The animals hide and the people, they cried; as this awful man ws left full of pride.

No hip or hooray... Now let me just say: If Trump is to win I will flee with my kin!




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