Jamaica's White House: Where Paradise Meets Poetry

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In Jamaica's embrace, where the sea meets the land, Stands a White House so grand, oh, isn't it grand? Not the one up in D.C. where the suits call the shots, But a tropical retreat where relaxation ties the knots.

No suits and no ties, no political brawl, Just flip-flops and sunscreen, the perfect protocol. In the U.S. White House, it's all about security, Here, it's all about nature's serene purity.

No Oval Office, no policy debates, Just hammocks and cocktails, and swinging beach gates. While politicians scheme and the news headlines spin, We sway in the breeze with a carefree grin.

The Capitol's chaos, the Senate's strife, We leave them all behind for a simpler life. No red states, no blue states, just the ocean's hues, As reggae rhythms play, chasing away the blues.

No press conferences, no pundits in sight, Just sunsets that paint the sky in hues of delight. No electoral college, no campaign race, Just the sound of the waves and a steady, slow pace.

In Tower Isles, where the palm trees sway tall, We trade politics for a waterfall's call. No filibusters here, just the falls' soothing rush, No partisan battles, just nature's hush.

So raise a glass to Jamaica's White House, my friend, Where politics and stress take a well-earned end. It's not the one you'd find in the U.S. of A, But it's the perfect spot to relax and sway.

With each sunset that paints the Jamaican sky, We bid politics farewell, with a carefree, "Goodbye!" In this White House of peace, let's all raise a cheer, For in Jamaica, my friends, there's no room for fear.