Where do I fit in the mess of a kingdom?
The brave and loyal?
The soft and innocent?
Or the commanding and respected?

The soldier points her sword at me
"You know nothing of what a soldier should be"
She recites the lives she took
how she runs from death's lethal hook

I run the poet, and they stare at me
"You know nothing of what a poet should be"
They spin a tale of the nights they spend
looking for a muse, how they just pretend

I kneel before the King, and he lets me speak
"You know nothing of what a king should be"
He bellows about his isolated life with fame
without someone else to take the blame

I don't think I want to be a solider poet or king
I'd rather just run away into the woods
the woods where I live for myself
and not some corrupted hierarchy