He was a king
But he’s got no bling.
He was successful
Yet he was merciful.
People tried to drag him
But he didn’t become grim.
He just wrote some songs
About the world’s wrongs.
And he defended other races
In front of the supremacist’s faces.
Then he lived a happy life
Before he flew into his resting place.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem