11 10 2011

The first stanza came to me while I was riding the train and I couldn’t let go of the idea.  It’s comforting, in a way, to simply resign from things and childish ideas of how the world is supposed to be and give in to jadedness.  It feels easier to live.


The King is dead,
the Prince never lived.
What a fool I was,
to believe he ever did.

There is no man,
on a shining silver steed.
There is no one
who will stop it when I bleed.

And when I ask,
and am given scraps,
my mind, too starved to see
it is yet another trap.

Let’s hear a round,
‘fore we wave goodbye.
For we now know
the Prince is a lie.



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