A child of Suess and a daughter of grace,
in this whimsical world I was kindly misplaced.
On an island of misfits I took to my tongue,
like the martyrs had spoken my brilliance begun.
But, I must dare not speak it! I must prove the truth!
In the shoes of a tyrant, what a fool I had grew?
I dreamed and I dreamed I could be what they said,
but I had not a penny to pay outside my head.
What da Vinci had taught me, I could not afford.
What the world had created? A heathen of course!
So I took to my pen, and I learned with my eyes,
as I fled down with Wormwood, myself to despise.
Each moment, I thought I would own. It would cost.
But, I found the earth spun not due to my watch.
From controlling to folding my hand and my mind
submission, surrender I had finally thrived.
I learned how to die. So, I now know to live,
as my bones and my breath fought the hairs on my chin.
Just like King Author, a sword stuck in the stone
So too is our world under a throne.