What do you want me to say?
Take a look around!
You don't care for my needs,
you want to see me bleed,
my torture's your decree,
Oh king of kids, well I surrender to you my being- are you finally seeing?
I never make you laugh?
Listen to the laughs!
You unjust want to watch me dance,
Not from the sweat make my cheeks damp,
I feel the effect of your potent rank,
Oh king of kids, well serving must be my thing-
Are you finally listening?
Oh king of kids, you're like a bottle of fine wine, as you know,
Or an older woman,
as you know,
Even as savoury, crumbling cheese,
as you know-
You've studied history, indefinitely passed; not a fact you couldn't fib about Rome.
You're a fox about War, indefinitely the best, except bullets cannot touch you.
So what do I know your majesty, to take heed of a Jester's voice is only a travesty,
As you know, what do I know?
You are richer and better looking. I'm a jester to the growing up King of Kids and I much understand the
gravity of the situation, because I am a Jester, a jester, forever?
YOU ARE READING
The Confessions of a 90's Kid
Poetry"Words are weapons: for warriors, for war heroes, for worrying teenagers and therefore for me."
