He came not quiet, nor clothed in grace,
But loud and sure, he took his place.
A builder’s hands, a branding name,
He entered power like a flame.
A tycoon turned to president,
Dividing lines wherever sent.
To some, a voice the world ignored—
To others, all that they'd deplored.
He spoke in sparks, not tempered tone,
A throne of tweets, a rule his own.
He rallied crowds with fervent cheer,
While others watched with doubt and fear.
The truth bent hard beneath his claim,
Yet millions still invoked his name.
For every wall he swore to raise,
He tore down norms in bold displays.
To critics, chaos marked his path—
To loyal hearts, he stirred their wrath.
A showman standing center stage,
A lightning rod for modern rage.
But history, cool and slow to judge,
Records the tide, not just the grudge.
It weighs the storm, the gain, the cost,
The trust rebuilt, the trust once lost.
For now, he stands a nation’s test—
A chapter fierce, still not at rest.
A symbol both of fear and pride—
The mirror where we must decide.
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