'Beheader, Beheader!
Off with his head!
He's mocked the Queen,
So, he should be dead! '
'But M'Lord, M'Sire,
He said not a word,
He merely coughed,
That's all she heard! '
'I am the king,
I make the rules,
So cut off his head,
You hideous fool! '
The king's mistake,
What did him in,
His swollen ego,
That lies within,
The angry beheader,
The one who is armed,
Is never told off,
So he was alarmed,
He grabbed the king,
Threw him down,
Whacked off his head,
And stole his crown,
So don't be a snob,
To those who are less,
For y'might end up,
In a bloody mess.
Well the beginning sort of reminded me a bit of the French Revolution... but the end was just smashing. ~Amber~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You nailed it at the end! Preets