Trump stomped in first with red-tie pride,
A blimp of bluster, puffed with stride.
He drew a line deep in the sand,
Declared it his, gave one command.

Then Elon came, cape dragging slow,
With charts and tweets in proudest tow.
"You'd never won," he scoffed with heat,
"Without my cash, you'd have faced defeat."

Trump snorted, “What? You think I care?
You’re just a nerd with thinning hair.
Go build your toys and shoot your stars—
I run the room, not rusty cars.”

Musk fired back, “You knew Epstein—
Your smile won’t hide what’s truly mean.
You laughed and posed, acted serene,
But secrets crack — the truth is seen.”

“You little fraud,” Trump snarled and spat,
“You stabbed me first, remember that.
You took my tax breaks, grinned with glee,
Then turned and bit the hand — that’s me!”

“Elon,” he growled, “you’re losing grip,
Your brain’s aboard a sinking ship.
You back JD? A rookie clone!
I paved the way — you reap alone.”

“I warned the world you’d blow the bank,”
Said Musk, “Your deals? A fiscal prank.
Your ‘big bill’ stinks of bloated mess—
No plan, just yelling more for less.”

“I’ll cut your funds,” Trump barks with glee,
“No rockets, roads, or subsidy.
No SpaceX checks, no EV gold—
Let’s see you shine without my hold.”

They flailed and raged, kicked sand and cried,
While grown-ups watched, half mortified.
Two billionaires in suits and sweat,
Still mad the swings were slightly wet.

They shook their fists and named their toys—
Two overgrown, combustible boys.
No truth, no trust, just spats and spite,
In sandbox wars at broad daylight.