A busted billionaire out on the ledge
has drawn a crowd below; some holler, “Jump”.
For several hours now, he’s been on edge.
The tower he has climbed is branded “Trump.”
It’s one of many buildings that he owns.
All his claims of glory deal with money.
But now he has to pay off monster loans
from people who don’t think his act is funny.
The Russians clearly have him in their sights.
Records show the Chinese will soon follow.
The Saudis; lordy, he’s stretched very thin.
This pressure’s getting very hard to swallow.
His pleas for help from lawyers, thugs and God,
though blatant, have lately just gone unheeded.
Now he’s sick and whacked on steroid drugs,
a mark who can’t pay up, no longer needed.
But he’s a coward and will crawl on back
into the waiting arms of dreaded Feds.
He’ll rant and rave, insisting he is brave,
and blame his woes and troubles on the meds.
He’ll confess to crimes, name many names.
At this point he knows that he needs protection.
Abandoning his palace dipped in gold,
he’ll head off to a big house of correction.