Do not let them memory hole the cowardly assassination attempt on Trump's life.
In a rally in Butler, quite near,
A shot rang out, oh so clear,
Trump took one in the ear,
But stood up, without any fear.
Liberals watched, their hearts sank,
Thinking, "This is where he'll tank!"
But Trump, with a grin, quite bizarre,
Raised his fist, shouting, "Fight, not mar!"
The bullet, it flew, oh so close,
But Trump's ear, it was the ghost,
Of what could've been a sad tale,
But instead, it's a tale of a whale.
Liberals cried, "How could he stand?"
"He's like a cat, with nine lives in his hand!"
They were mad, they were fuming,
But Trump, he was just assuming,
That this would make his story grand,
A legend, across the land,
For in the annals of political lore,
Trump's ear shot, forever more,
Would be the tale of how he defied,
The odds, with his earshot pride,
Liberals mad, but Trump, oh so fine,
With an ear that's now a political shrine.