‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the White House,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
But in the Oval Office, a man sat alone,
With a scowl on his face and a phone in his hand.
He was Donald Trump, the President of the United States,
And he was not happy, no, not in the least.
For he had just learned of new scandal and scandal
That threatened to undermine his administration and candor.
He paced back and forth, his mind in a whirl,
As he tried to come up with a plan to save his political world.
But just as he was about to give up hope,
He heard a noise outside and went to the window to scope.
And what to his wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
And there was St. Nicholas, with his beard white as snow,
And a twinkle in his eye that seemed to glow.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And delivered a package, then turned with a smirk.
And Trump, in amazement, watched as St. Nicholas rose,
And flew off into the night, with a flick of his nose.
He knew in that moment, with a sudden clarity,
That he must change his ways and work for the country.
So he put down his phone and sat down at his desk,
And began to work on a plan that he felt was best.
And as the night wore on, he found new resolve,
To make America great and to solve
The problems that faced the nation,
And to put the people’s needs above his own ambition.
And so, as Christmas morning dawned bright and clear,
Trump knew that he had a new mission this year.
To lead with integrity and to always do right,
And to make America great, with all of his might.