Part the World

6. Throne

His throne was more impressive
Then anything he said

He was educated
But lost - entirely - in his head.

She was far more talkative 
Than graceful
With golden crowns
Resting upon her head.

King wasn't
(Couldn't have been) 
Anything more than his seat
With rests of sticks
And crest rails of stones.

Her smile was just
A smile
Teeth not as white
As fallen snow,
Or perfectly aligned
In neat shining rows.

Nothing was brilliant
About their rooms
(Gold was never a thing there)
With average beds,
And normal pillows,

And the decor wasn't that pretty.

Their butlers were hardly
Clean shaven.

Their maids were peasants,
Dressed threadbare and dirty.

Their food was not grand, 
No more special than jelly,
Their pie was the colour of mud,
And having utensils was luck
(and they were usually quite rusty.)

The king and queen,
Wore rags,
And greens,
Picked from a dying castle garden. 

The monarchy was a short line
Of only three
(next in line was King's brother
Who was merely six.)

Their carriages were not really carriages,
Just wheelbarrows pulled by six
Rather weak looking slaves

Who's faces glistened in the heat.

Their subjects
Where the only thing worth mentioning
At least ten of them were gathered.
With exaggerated bows
And overdone shouts of glee.
(Only one was aged older than thirteen)

Their kingdom was corrupt and dirty, and empty.

But still spectacularly beautiful to all
Whoever went through its gates
(Which were only two trees.)

No,
The thrones were not grand,
Neither was the land.
Nor the maids,
Or cooks,
Or slaves,
Or butlers.

Nor, the carriages, 
Or the gardens,
Or the smiles
Or the foods,
Or the subjects.

The kingdom was imaginary, and fake, and untrue.
I've been there, you see.
And for all of its imperfections,
I'm sure.

And it is the most beautiful place on Earth,
Purely because it is imaginary.