Tebogo Errol Hlahla

Rookie (1973-05-31 / Atteridgeville, Pretoria, South Africa)

The King - Poem by Tebogo Errol Hlahla

Like a true Queen
You were keen
To sit on my throne
Only to me, the King, you were intimately known
I held you strong in my arms
Shielding you from any imminent harm
You are Queen of the ghetto
And you intend to rule with me hitherto
Don’t shield your emotions from me
As I shield my enemies from ill
Come ghetto Queen,
Sit tight on my throne
And you’ll never be thrown
For you, I shall protect
And for you, a statue of honour, I shall erect
So don’t stray, but stay
For both our sakes
A king needs his honour too
From his foes and subjects too
Don’t you waver in loyalty my Queen
For I won’t ever belabor my trust in you
You sit on my throne, and your crown
Sits on your head like a red rose
So I won’t ever leave you morose
My subjects call you Mother of the Nation
An appropriate title for one who fills me up with such elation
You are ghetto fabulous
Never one to be confused or nebulous
Let me be your hero
Be a man of honour like that character De Nero
And we’d be hooked up like lovers with lots of libido
So as you sit on my throne, in my castle,
I’ll be your King, forever my Queen.

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Poem Submitted: Friday, August 19, 2011

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