This is to the beggar
whose lineage are kingsmen
Death, they
thought, must be a better choice
Than slanderous
fingers should point at the royal palace
And gossips
should find their voices again
What happened passed from one lip to the other?
Candlelight
Snuffed out softly,
slowly
In the company of
bootlickers and wild at hearts
Lured onto a
slippery stage
Dreams fester
Merriment becomes
a curse
Wait!
Not the dancers
are to blame, not the singers but
The audience,
among whom the beggar is numbered
The kingsmen could
no longer remain dumb
They forbade the
prophet to prophesy
And the
soothsayer they charged to remain at arm’s length
That for the
sake of their prodigal son, they should be poorer by some bread and butter
They reasoned
among themselves, that,
Someday, the Pig’s
feed should run out while their son’s hunger hurt him more
They knew the
Pig would snort louder
Till their son
heard the voice of wisdom calling in the Pig's snort
And return home
Copyright (C)
2015
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