The Pickled Prince

-The Pickled Prince-
by Keaton Foster



Rosily sits
The pickled prince
Upon his square head
Sits a round hat
A poor man’s crown
Across the front
Emblazoned words
Scream out
Pay your toll
Upon his throne
Of cardboard boxes
He sits
Too drunk to stand up
Too belligerent to rule
The jester is no fool
The queen is gone
All of the heirs
To his kingdom of swine
Are doing hard time
He has nothing of value
Nothing that anyone would wish
Soiled is his skin and bones
Damaged is his very soul
Faith in only the bottle
Ungodly he rules
His iron fist
Has knocked out
More than a few sets
Of rotten teeth
The pickled prince
Is without question
Alone
From the highway 4 underpass
He dares no one to pass
Without paying their dues
Such a drunkard fool
His beggars sign reads
God bless thy king
People often stop and ask
Who is this king
In which you speak
He replies
Why it is I
The pickled prince…


The Pickled Prince
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.