(The King)

Reads: 322  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about a deceased king

Submitted: February 01, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 01, 2012

A A A

A A A


I am the king who sits on the chair, 
I am the one who looks for an heir. 
He shall be great upon his golden crown, 
Commanding the people of this great town. 

He will stand tall with all his might, 
Even the enemies will respect his plight. 
They will bow down before his splendor, 
All of the land will have to surrender. 

He shall be free to do as he please, 
All of the women will bow to their knees. 
They will swoon with every look, 
Why he will even knock out the cook. 

He will not ever fail, 
People will go on to tell his great tale. 
None will be able to resist, 
All who listen will want to persist. 

But alas all that is undone, 
For the only tale that was ever sung. 
Was the one that made great speed, 
Of the king who choked on the little cherry seed. 


© Copyright 2020 Shun Lai. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments: