Once upon a time long ago
Where wise men inhabited a town,
Their young king died very soon
Leaving to no one his precious crown.
But deciding the next king
Caused a real difficulty,
And at last, they decided
That the king will be somebody...
Somebody who'll cross the gate first
Standing at the entrance of the town,
Will rule their town for three months
But the idea brings up a frown.
They will keep changing their kings
Till they find a real wise one,
The previous will be sent to the forest
Where he'll hardly find the sun.
So in the deep dense woods, he'll die
Of thirst fear and starvation,
Meanwhile, they'll find another king
And another till they find a nice one.
After some useless trials
And after some stupid king's rule,
They again got a brand new king
Who also seemed unworthy and fool.
He was told about the rules
Their tradition was introduced,
He got surprised about
How the previous kings were abused.
But he agreed to it more quickly
Then the others who got the chance,
And was happy for his luck though
It made him look a fool in advance.
He ruled the town, very well he did
And the best he did was preparations,
He changed the place in the forest
Into a lovely site for a vacation.
Three months passed and the place
Was well prepared for his welcome,
The king was happy to be sent there
Now it was not at all a problem.
His intelligence was acknowledged
By everyone in 'The Town Of No King'
This was the only subject that day
Nobody knew who they'll next bring.
As the tradition, the town assembled
At the entrance of the city,
But instead of the farewell to the king
They greeted him as, "Your Majesty."
It was decided that there's no need
For waiting at the main gate,
Because now they've got a King
Who can perfectly rule their estate?
That land deep in the forest
Became a place for tourists to visit,
And the saying was fulfilled here that
"The best way to predict your future is by yourself creating it."
_______________________________
Poet's Note
Hey reader,
Am I a worthy poet? Well, I am preparing to become one since I was in 8th grade. It's been 4 years now!
Vote my ballad if it deserves that and tell me if I deserve to be called a worthy poet in the comments below.
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The Ballads Of Childhood
PoetryWondering what a ballad is? 🤔 Let me explain. A story that is written ✏ in a special way to multiply the amount of excitement in it. In other words, stories that are written as poems. Read below the stories of your childhood👶 rhythmically 🎵 witho...
