Caren Krutsinger | + Follow Poet |
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The Almost King Story

He was a sort of a king, a man at the top of King Hill.  He had the most food, and the most guns. He had servants at first, but they were too hard to feed after a bit, so he let them go.  When he was younger he used to come out of his glass castle and look down the hill at the common people, but that got depressing as he aged.

All around him was famine.  The common people were starving and fighting over food rations.  He watched in curiosity as they fought over ham steaks and bags of grain.  One day the almost-king watched the Theys round up the Bittles.  First they rounded the Bittles up, then they tied them to trees, and let them starve and die of thirst.  He could have helped save them, but he did not want to get involved.

They came for the Zygons next.  The Zygons did not go as peacefully.  They fought and clawed, kicked, hissed and spit.  But They rounded them up anyway and locked them into stocks where the almost-King could see them, but he did not know anything about Zygons. Why should he help them?

The almost king was looking from his balcony one day, when something treacherous was happening to the Lillies. The Lillies had always been kind to him, and he felt badly about it, but he was afraid to speak because his castle was made of glass, and he was rapidly becoming afraid of the Theys.

So he hid inside, and did not open the door to anyone.  The Theys were surprised when they came up the hill to round up the Polk Noses.  The Polka Noses had weapons. They fought bravely, hurting some of the Theys.  But in the end, they got the Polka Noses under control.  

The Theys were becoming a formidable group.  There were thousands of them now and more Theys were joining them every day.  Joining is better than being targeted by the Theys, right?  Ask my cousin, who used to be a We.
The almost king disapproved of the Theys now, but fear kept him silent. He was hoping they would not notice him or his glass castle.  He hid inside, not protesting, not making any noise at all, fearfully silent until they started chanting as they came up the hill.

Moral of this Story: Speak up before they come and get you.

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018

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W.A. Cholt Date: 10/24/2018 5:30:00 PM A timely poem. Too many people afraid to speak the truth. Hamstrung by fear, political correctness, etc. Login to Reply Caren Krutsinger Date: 10/24/2018 10:18:00 PM Yes, I know but sometimes you know when it is time to speak. Which is why poets find their voices.

M. L. Kiser Date: 10/24/2018 3:00:00 PM "Zygons, They's, Lillies, Polka Noses"? Where do you come up with these? Yes, too many don't speak up and then...well...here they come... Login to Reply Caren Krutsinger Date: 10/24/2018 3:52:00 PM I have to throw out all kinds of ideas for kinds of people because I rarely generalize groups, knowing that I am not a thing like my own identical twin.

Rhona Mcferran Date: 10/24/2018 11:19:00 AM My guess is that this is a whimsical (yet thought-provoking) take on the Martin Niemoller quote: "First they came for the Jews and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew. Then they came for the Communists and I did not speak out because I was not a Communist. Then they came for the trade unionists and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak out for me." Sobering, but needed! Login to Reply Caren Krutsinger Date: 10/24/2018 3:53:00 PM Rhona, how well you know me. This was the INSPIRATION for this poem.