Ah Fame, you were my King of long ago.
What are you now, I ask you, what are you?
You are a wretched beggar, on my streets,
Abandoned from my Kingdom, foul fool.
Ah Fame, you Tyrant, now I see your truth:
A bitter Trickster, digging cavities
for those of noble talent to fall through
and never see the light of modesty
You never crowned your subjects with fair crowns
(you never will, you idiotic prince)
you’ll always use your wiles to cheat our share
Of lowliness and honour, not a pinch!
It seems, when you had ruled my dim domain
you conned me for your own disastrous gain.
Experimenting with unconventional line breaks and punctuation, inspired by the marvellous A.M. Juster.
ReplyDeleteThanks to Phoenix, I corrected "an pinch" to "a pinch"! Merci beaucoup!
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