Twas two days before Christmas, when all through the White House
Not a presidential aide was stirring, not even a mouse;
The Articles of Impeachment were hung by the Oval Office with care,
in the hope people would think they were unfair;
The West Wing staffers were nestled in their beds,
trying to ignore the truth rattling around in their heads;
That Trump was a liar making it hard to nap,
with visions of his cult followers wearing a red cap,
When out on the White House lawn there arose such a clatter,
that the secret service scrambled to see what was the matter,
the scared staffers flew to the windows in a mad dash,
in time to see Trump's presidential limousine crash,
The moon reflected upon the new-fallen snow,
like a reality game show,
When, to the worried staffers eyes should appear
Trump's cabinet dressed up like a herd of deer,
Trump himself was dressed all in fur (that Jr. killed), from his head to his foot
And his gaudy clothes were covered in coal and soot;
A bundle of conspiracy theories he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His bloodshot eyes - how they twinkled on his orange face;
His droll anus-looking mouth that always energized his base,
Trump spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
Setting up campaign signs that said, "Vote for me, or you're a jerk!"
He waddled to his limousine as fast as he could go,
shouting out to his minions in the increasing snow,
"Ho! Ho! Ho! I'm off to Mar-A-Lago!"
Merry Christmas from The White House Staff
and the crazy bastard in the Oval Office!
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