FtM -- Poem 1

Modern Primogeniture

--

As the walls came down,

They pointed to the Crown,

'To the mines!' he screamed.

--

For that his children cleaned,

All of the dirt and matter,

That fell from each carrying vehicle,

Once in a while a taste would drop into their mouths,

Pitter-Patter, Pitter-Patter.

--

the Crown drops to his children's side,

'Forgive me, my sons!' he screamed,

The one girl in disgust, beamed,

She and herself had never been recognized.

--

When the walls went back up,

During the next dawn and New Crown,

The Old Crown sat wistfully,

Aboard the head of his daughter, happy and blue.

--

It glamored and gleaned, like her late King!

But in a different way, one that grew agile,

Enough to pass a stream through a string!