The King

You're a king on a golden throne,

But you sit up there so alone

That is not your a home.

Sometimes, you step down among the other people

And walk around

But they do not wear your mighty crown

How much does it weigh?

As the days of your life slip away

Princesses await you

But this is not what you do

Others try to reach your cloud

They reach and plead loud

But no

They do not know

Oh king

You are falling

Take off your crown

For it only brings you down

But you did not choose it

It chose you

So direct your army

Swarm the foe

But we all do know

This is not your home.

This poem is about: 
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741