Upon what meat doth this, our Caesar feed?

The sedentary life's been hard on Trump
each year, a shorter frame must bear more mass.
The tailors paid to drape his swelling rump,
can't fool the world who sees he's just an ass.
While Vietnam consumed our nation's youth,
he pleaded there were spurs on his wee feet.
The Draft Board bought his lie like it's the truth;
his class is insulated from defeat.
Obama's still a paragon of health,
whose exercise and diet keep him lean.
But Trump's convinced he's sexy 'cause his wealth
attracts the bimbos who don't care he's mean.
This oaf-in-chief waxed great exploiting fears.
I'm worried by the fat between his ears.