The Same Poem by The Jester

Clad in gold and swathed in red
Crown of jewels upon his head
Velvet gloves of orange fire
Glorious and fine attire
Lies upon a carven bed
Skins of beasts for feet to tread
Lives in splendid castles tall
The idol and envy of all

In the mud, he lies on hay
Curses sun and hates the day
Wishes he could end his life
Lost his children and his wife
Dirty rags tied round his frame
Feasts on water, bread and grain
Crawls in filth along the street
Dodging wayward, vicious feet.

Different worlds, and yet so near
One of hope and one of fear
So much comes between their lives
And yet, fate has but to contrive
A pair of brilliant, open eyes
Into darkness sense soon flies
Slender face and flowing hair
Looks that pierce the very air
Matters not does rank or name
Men in love are all the same.