Christian Poetry

This poem is written as if I was having a one on one conversation with My Lord Jesus Christ

Bow to the King

"I was starving. Not a soul cared. The nobles and rich do not care for 'dirt-scum' or 'drunk beggars.' Our King is sick and tired. His heir, the Prince, is a pompous, arrogant, self-absorbed fool. At least, I think so. A beggar has no chance at joy, particularly an orphan one. I am destined to a life of dirt, hard flo...