Disclaimer: i know the blog name says no poetry. but i'm gonna break the rules anyway. maybe even change the blog name.
Once a upon a Century
There was a King of Fools
Who sat on upon yon Throne of velvet red
And cleverly (he thinks) he rules
His Crown perched upon a lofty brow
Mighty Pen he waves
Still as yet I cannot fathom how
Nor why so attentive are his Slaves
Oft he struts past the troubled lot
In robes of Righteousness
But methinks one thing he forgot
That he in Invisible robes did dress
He issues Edict and Decree
On a Web of fragile thread
Yet still all who read and agree
Are Goons set under his stead
He sits oft at his Table of Truth
And speaks Law to his Fools
With wonderful words to sway and soothe
Enchants them as his Tools
O Fools of the highest degree
By virtue of face white and fair
With his Majesty they mindlessly agree
With nary thought nor care
O King who owns a booming voice
And stands nose-high with magnanimous poise
He who waves hands with deceptive grace
And speaks his Law with a vivacious face
Point not your Scepter-Pen at me nor mine
For only knit wits a-plenty shall ever be thine
For methinks ever the King of Fools are you
And all the more Fool you are, for thinking us as foolish too.
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