Half Full Half Hungry Peasants
Kings always rule
princes always marry,
jewels of royalty
always glow through
castle windows
feasting and feasting,
plotting the next war scheme.
the poor smell the duck, the
gravy.
peasants dream of
beheading the commander
souls onced plan to unite for a
cause larger than themselves,
that day is lost
now we glorify their
stuffing feast
the feel of fitting in with them
makes you warm inside like a
shot
of whiskey.
you are connected with the
fame and fortune; but never
invited to a ball
tuning into your idols,
forgetfull
they have no recollection of
who you are.
time is wasted on a
meaningless mirage
keeping the peasants happy,
with their half eaten chicken
breast
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