Crown Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Crown

I always was against one head-wear.
That is called: a “Crown”
The body and brain underneath
Leaders are in “Crimes”.

The kings are criminals; and queens.
Their loyal have been; are
And remain red-handed
Shed blood…

In the field, in court and, in off ice
Among them, Kipling
Who knows that?
George Orwell

Whenever I see, read of court case
Questions roam around, soar:
“Can judge be a bastard? ”
“Kissing ass of a king? ”
“Sells people? ”

Some shameless and heartless;
We know well, the crown
Care-less for the crowd.

King writes:
“It is yours, discover.”
What about the originals?

I hated; will always
Hate crown
Why impose an old dog on nation?
Come flood, tornado, volcano
Take the shit
Bury it in wash-room.