Your Majesty

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem is my mirrored opinion of the government.

Submitted: December 22, 2011

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Submitted: December 22, 2011



"Your Majesty"

Brick, steel, and diamonds;

This castled up heaving from the blood of their brow.

I prance on the velvet 

and hold on my face a half-grinned smile.

So many doors, half are locked

because a person as small as me

was never fortunate enough to receive a key.

Maybe if I kill a few birds

the set-in stone will be reserved for me, my destiny.

My silly little destiny.

I sit on my crooked wooden chair, begging for mercy

from the man in his throne.

I ask him for peace, 

and with no response, he tosses me a bone.

I'm merely a dog without a home,

just looking for sympathy when 

I'm left all alone.

I just walk around this castle,

only thing to my name are rags and a ball point pen.

That's all they have given me

so I keep my thoughts circulating in my head.

I've written many letters

to try to get by what's said.

But they're just tossed into a garbage bag

neatly nestled beside the closed minded liars dressed to pretend.

The hallways are left dark.

They frighten me, so I don't look down.

I keep my heavy eyes fixed on your plastic crown.

I don't stare in awe,

I don't applaud when you speak,

because all though your words mean so much,

they mean very little to me.

Look, your majesty,

this isn't a democracy.

Why else would you hold in hand a hammer and a tassle?

Are those there to beat us down?

To leave us as nothing more than servants in your semi-free castle?

© Copyright 2018 TayMarion. All rights reserved.

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