Trump’s Soliloquy (Apologies to Shakespeare)

To be, or not to be:  That is the question. 
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 
The slings and arrows of a nepo baby's fortune, 
Or to take arms against a radical and corrupt establishment, 
And by opposing it, Make America Great Again! 

To eat a Big Mac and sleep then to diet no more! 
By a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks 
That a porn star's flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation 
Devoutly to be wish'd.  To  insult, to defame,  
To sleep with Melania just once more, perchance to dream:  To  rub one off; 
For in that sleep of fame what dreams may come 
When I have shuffled off  my immortal coil, 
Must give us pause:  There's the respect 
That makes calamity of so long life despite my eating habits; 

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, 
The Democrats wrong, the Proud Boy's contumely, 

The pangs of Stormy's love,  Merrick's delay, 
The abuse  of office that a stable genius makes 

To regain power and like fellow felons  

Neither to grunt and sweat, nor to dread  

Something after death, that undiscovered planet from whose bourn 
No traveler (except Jesus, Elon  and me) returns.  

Thus conscience does make cowards of all but me; 
And my orange hue of resolution 
Remains free from any pale cast of thought, 

That would deny  me those enterprises of great pith and moment 

Bigger than the world has ever, ever seen.  

Soft you now, until Baron is asleep 

The fair Melania!  Nymph, in thy prisons 
Be all my unfufilled promises  forgotten.