"Bow down!" I would cry, with dread in my voice,
venom touched glares would pierce my skull,
as the faces scowled with my every step.
My feet would land on the dust covered steps,
my anger was clear in my voice,
and the effect was the blocking of the peasants noises.
Even if their anger was clear,
they dropped to their knees with their hands in the air to bow down in front of me.
A smirk would crawl upon my cleaner visage,
their dirt covered bodice disgusted me,
but what do they deserve?
Nothing. I can give them nothing,
because they appreciate none that I try to do for them.
Who slipped in an extra crumb of bread in their dishes?
Who gave them an extra drop of water?
I have done that for them,
but no gratitude touches their dusted faces,
those dirty, disgusting faces.
Let them bow low,
I shall help none now,
my father will be proud to see these peasants drop to their knees,
bow down to me,
their leader, their king.
My sister although, is such a different story,
she helps these peasants,
but instead of crumbs,
it's loaves,
instead of drops,
it's gallons.
How can she dream, while carrying out such disgusting actions.
Disgusting.
She should be thrown into their ranks of disgusting labor.
Their disgusting faces, I want to vomit whenever they land upon me,
their dull eyes couldn't bear to see my clean ones.
They're crippled and broken, but I'm healthy and strong,
why should they cross my mind at all?
But my sister.
Oh my darling sister.
Did she think I would never notice the extra blankets, and extra food.
Did she not? Well of course not,
I'm the king, the lord.
I see all.
