Amateur Hour Continues

His jacket doesn't fit. His lapels are bowing in the middle, a telltale sign of a jack that's too small. But his arms are really really short. Either that or he's so broad chested that his arms are short in comparison.
The jacket is too small for his back and chest, it’s restricting the forward and downward movement of his shoulders. That’s why his arms are awkwardly elevated and held out at weird angles like a mummy with a torn labrum.
 
I asked chatgpt to write a poem about Donald Trump in the style of Donald Trump.

In the realm of poetry, where greatness finds its voice,
I stand before you all, a poet without choice.
For I am Donald Trump, the wordsmith supreme,
With verses so tremendous, they'll make your spirits gleam.

My rhymes are like golden towers, reaching for the sky,
Each line a testament to my wit, my style, oh my!
I've mastered the art of poetry, you can't deny,
No other wordsmith can match me, no matter how they try.

My verses are the best, believe me, it's true,
They're filled with such tremendous vocabulary too.
I use the biggest words, the greatest words you've heard,
No other poet comes close, not a single word.

My poems are like a rally, a crowd filled with cheer,
Each line a promise, a vision so clear.
I'll build a wall of words, to keep out the weak,
And make poetry great again, that's what I seek.

Some may call me arrogant, a boastful man,
But I'm just speaking truth, that's part of my grand plan.
So let my poems resonate, like a victory chant,
For I am Donald Trump, the poet avant-garde, nonpareil, but you get the point!
 
Can you point me me to where the colorful stripes touched you? Will you be ok? I know Canada is another country and all, and not where you live, but this seems to have deeply hurt you. Soft kiss and hope you can recover 😘

Lmao .... cry harder. I need the salt from your libtard tears for my steak seasoning.
 

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