The King Is Never Wrong

The King is never wrong

Everything is in His time

The whole world just sees it

As devoid of reason or rhyme

 

The world is His oyster

All must bend to His will

His family- His friends

Exist for His Thrill

 

His worries are few

His maiden bears it all

And even uses the chariot

Around his beck and call

 

Only for three years

He had a chariot of His own

Until it was wrecked

His autonomy was mostly unknown

 

Even when away

His presence is felt

Like the odor of decaying corpses

Like the memorable sting of a belt

 

How several were the Friday nights

He drank beer from His chalice

As his maiden made a four hour drive to reach him

To bring him to the palace

 

His offspring's feelings were oft disregarded

And oft he felt his father's wrath

And the cause nine times out of ten

Were for not being like his dad

 

The King claimed to love His son

But does the King really just love His face?

After all - He and His son are alike

In many many ways

 

The King had an offspring

But will not have heirs

His offspring want nothing more

To do with His affairs

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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