In the heart of the nation, where politicians play,

Lived a crooked shyster, slick in his way.

His name was Joe Biden, with a smile so wide,

But beneath the grin, dark secrets did hide.

He promised the people the moon and the stars,

But his hands were deep in the cookie jars.

With a handshake firm and a wink of his eye,

He spun tales of hope, but they were a lie.

Votes were his currency, trust his façade,

A thief of rhetoric, deception his god.

Behind closed doors, deals were struck,

Quid pro quo, and a stroke of luck.

His pockets grew heavy, his conscience light,

In the dead of the night, he counted his might.

Whispers in corridors, rumors on streets,

Of Biden’s empire, built on deceit.

The people grew weary, their eyes opened wide,

To the crooked ways, he could no longer hide.

Protests erupted, voices demanded,

Protect Joe Biden whose lies expanded.

But Biden, ever cunning, played his last card,

A debate full of promises, though his soul was scarred.

He swore he'd change, be a candidate reborn,

Yet, behind the scenes, more corruption was sworn.

In the annals of history, his name would remain,

A symbol of power, stained with disdain.

For in the heart of the nation, where shadows still play,

Biden’s legacy lingers, in the nation’s decay.

From the golden towers, a figure arose,

Donald Trump, the rescuer, in bold repose.

With a voice of thunder and a gaze so keen,

He vowed to challenge the tainted machine.

"Drain the swamp!" he cried, with fervor bright,

To bring to light the shadows of night.

He waged his war on corruption's grip,

Determined to right the nation’s sinking ship.

Through trials and turmoil, battles he fought,

Exposing the truths that the nation sought.

A nation divided, yet hope still sparked,

As Trump’s crusade left its indelible mark.

For in the annals of history, both names remain,

One etched with glory, the other with stain.

And the heart of the nation, where shadows once lay,

Stands the truth in the light of day.