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The Monarch Who Thought He Was King

Once there was a butterfly
	who fluttered by a gate. 
The gate was closed, that’s when he said, 
	“O shucks, now I’ll be late!” 
He danced and pranced and shouted 
	and did not hesitate, 
“I demand,” he said with power, 
	“please, open up this gate!” 

To his surprise before his eyes
	the gate did open wide. 
“A lovely thing; I am the king! 
	I’m surely qualified. 
I had no choice so with my voice
	the command I simplified: 
‘Just open up this gate! 
	I need to get inside.’”

He told to all who’d hear him: 
	“I am the King,” he said. 
While some bowed down and listened; 
	some would not turn their head. 
They huffed and puffed and scoffed away,
	“We’re sure that you misread.
To open up a gate is easy;
	like falling out of bed!” 

His shoulders drooped, his forehead sagged; 
 	his eyes filled up with tears, 
“You cannot make me less a king
	with your scoffing and your sneers. 
I am the king,” he fluffed with pride, 
	“the ruler of my peers.” 
Then off he flew without a thought
	of all their laughs and jeers. 

He fluttered to a purple bush; 
	the hue fit for a king. 
And there he sat to contemplate
	and other kingly things. 
“I’ll show them all; the small and tall, 
	and all the scoffs they bring. 
A proclamation for my nation:
	we’ll hold a royal fling.” 

From low and high, from far and near
	they gathered close to see
the monarch make his grand command
	and show his identity. 
A thousand monarch butterflies
	watched with frivolity
with five or six ambassadors
	from the queendom of the bees.

And there he came with pomp and pride
	the self-made king to share
he was a monarch butterfly
	and worthy of their care. 
He preened his wings and listened for
	the sound of his fanfare, 
but all he heard was rustling wind
	which threw him in the air. 

He crashed and tumbled to the floor; 
	they could not believe their eyes. 
The kingdom they had counted on
	was built on fibs and lies. 
The king was crumpled to the ground
	ashamed in his demise.
He let the rain fall down on him
	from clouds in the gray skies. 

And then he woke up from his nap
	and turned inside his bed.
He saw the flowers of his home
	of purple, blue, and red. 
Right then and there he promised
	and to himself he said,
“I’ll be the best of butterflies,
	than to be king instead.”
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