this is my president:rages come and go,
frail Azures suffering from night’s upset wing
strong silent Greens silently sorrowing,
absolute shame like baths of orange snow.
This is my president:pursed lips do blow
upon dark flames within white hearts,and sing
(of strength deplorable and the insulting sling)
minority faces he will now lay low.
This is my president. Time shall surely reap
and on Death’s blade lie many a loved one curled,
in other lands where other songs be sung;
yet stand They here encaptured,as among
the slow-shown hate perpetual and deep
some tiny-fingered monster steals the world.
(the original is at http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1656/this-is-the-gardencolours-come-and-go/)