The king lives in his tower high,
Built on the country's bended back--
A kingdom made upon a lie,
On a mother's tear and a child's sigh,
A father's wish to hold the slack.
The king lives in his tower high,
And watches his people starve and cry,
The sky is red, the land bleeds black.
This kingdom's made upon a lie,
On princely words of 'help' and 'try'.
In a noble-infested shack,
The king lives in his tower high,
A puppet held upon a tie.
He's nothing more than a crowned hack.
This kingdom's made upon a lie.
And all the people scream and cry,
A true leader is what they lack.
He watches in his tower high
At this kingdom upon a lie.















Comments
I love your repetition which is used at just the right moments. Also I like the line "In a noble-infested shack,"--I think that if you could use or find a word for a delapadated building that is tall like a tower, I think then that it would be even more powerful to the reader.
Now for some reason I seem to be very partial to rythm..when reading poems I like to see rythm. If it starts with a certain rythm I like to continually see that...unless the mood of the poem changes. I just have my own personal issues with that inconsistency...hell that might come from working in high class restaurants, playing guitar or listening to spoken word.
Good poem!
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