The Comedy of American Politics Continue

-------------------------------------------- In Butler’s heat, a rally held, Where tales of grandeur often swell, A shadowed figure, fate compelled, A story that the headlines tell. An outdoor stage, a throng amassed, Republicans in fervor cast, As cameras clicked and questions passed, A moment meant to forever last. A figure climbed, with purpose grim, Up to the rooftop’s edge so thin, And just as Trump began to spin, The media’s eyes did quickly pin. A shot rang out, the crowd did scream, A nightmare in the day’s bright gleam, But truth is seldom what it seems, A stage, perhaps, to weave the dream. The news proclaimed a brush with death, A bullet’s path, a hair’s breadth, But whispers told with quiet breath, Of comedies and truths beneath. For media’s hand is deft and sly, With stories spun and crafted lies, Technology, a blinding eye, To shape the thoughts of passersby.