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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1387787
A short and very cliché piece but I think it's decent either way.
There once was a man who sat on a throne. 

Bloated and full, but still all alone. 

His soul cried out and his body trembled.

Lost and bewildered, his future enkindled.           

Wealthy and strong, or so it would appear. 

His addictions were binding; evidenced by the tear.


His body ached, his past a blur. 

Though the riches were great: gold, frankincense and myrrh.

His knowledge reached far, but his wisdom was short. 

Living a gamble, and games of that sort. 

The light did he seek, though he never could keep. 

The eternal desire, that made his heart weep.
         

So all eternity long, he wandered and sought.  For this hole in his heart, could never be bought. 

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