DONALD TRUMP AND THE MELTED ICECREAM

By Ejaz Rahim

The magi have consistently warned
That the greatest foes
Of all great nations
Are to be found not outside
But within

There is always an ass that kicks
And a serpent that stings
Hiding inside
And ready to sidetrack
Both a great nation
And a good human being

Not being an American citizen
I cannot vote at the hustings
But I’m game to cast
A vote for you, Mr Trump
In my own ballot-box of conscience
If you can show me
In all your public utterings
Or private mutterings
Or anything you’ve ever written
One single page, para or sentence
Mentioning love, compassion
And human understanding
As meaning something
In your life’s tablet or lexicon

One has viewed America’s greatness
Not in her exertions of power
In foreign lands
But the labour of its scholars,
Philosophers and scientists
Her poems, plays and paintings
And musical masterpieces
In its tall pyramids of peace
And rolling grasslands of feelings

Her Founding Fathers’ legacy
For an outsider
Is justice promised to the weak
And acceptance of differences
Without regard to faith or face
Genealogy or race
As part of her melting pot

Is the view somewhat different
From within
Like the aftermath
Of a melted ice-cream?

Those were America’s trump cards.
Have you, Mr Trump, started
To finally reshuffle
The great American Dream?

                                                                     Islamabad: August 2016     

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