King in the Park(Poem)

Glory gave the king
a statue
and some bird shit
and the patience
to stare at strangers
who don’t salute.

But the helping arms
not for the heavens above
but for the shared ether
wrote
good tales
with light
and moral-fight.

I have the load
of a hero
but the sinful silence
reminded me
the hours
I ghettoed the truth
and the shields that honored it.

None can
hang the lord
now.

Except for the skulls
6ft beneath the
history.


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