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 Nov 2013 Sonny Day
Allen Wilbert
It's Good To Be The King

While sitting on my golden throne,
dogs throw me their best bone.
Men bow down at my feet,
on my lap, women have a seat.
Kids give me their favorite toys,
I break the ones that make noise.
Rich people give me their gold,
poor people do as their told.
It's good to be the king,
everyone dances when I sing.
My queen obeys every command,
if not she gets a hard right hand.
Every servant does their job,
most people call me a snob.
My kids go the the best school,
if they are bad, I make them eat my stool.
It's good to be the king,
my castle has a hidden wing.
All my mistresses are eager to please,
off with their heads, if they don't appease.
My army has never lost a war,
if some happen to die, I just get more.
There is always talk of a revolution,
any talk of treason, is an automatic execution.
It's good to be the king,
I'm the puppeteer who pulls the string.
Every Sunday criminals get thrown to the lions,
the games begin with the sound of sirens.
Thousands come to scream and cheer,
while I drink wine, waiting for the invention of beer.
I'm getting old and about to retire,
my oldest son, all the girls desire.
My other son is a bit fruity,
I still have one last duty.
Still one battle left to win,
just one chance left to legally sin.
I strangled my family with some string,
**** it's good to be the king.
I think I'll keep my throne a few more years,
my families heads, I kept as souvenirs.
You're selfish.
You're a cheater and a liar.
You're manipulative.
You're a coward.

Use your charm as a trap
for those of us found weak and defenseless.
Harmless fun, for now.

You may be all of those things,
but I am worse to blame.

I believed the lies.
I saw you manipulate girl after girl.
I thought I was different.
But boy, was I wrong.

I was so stupid to fall for your tricks.
Living a life of ignorant bliss.
Falling further and further
Until I hit bottom
Forgiving, forgetting, like nothing had happened.

You can't have my pride,
You can't take my dignity.
No longer.
You can't have me.
 Nov 2013 Sonny Day
wounded
she was
freckled, laughing morning
when the years were still beyond
a stretch of the imagination.

she was
winking, beaming daylight
when the moment was held
by the gaze of an eye.

she was
melancholy evenings
when forever had passed,
slipped through her fingers.
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