The sweet, soft voice you use to charm,
Never seems to ring the alarm.
Until it's to late, I'm in too deep.
I'm just a peasant. I'm just a sheep.
A pawn in the games you play,
I give in to every word you say.
Dreaming of being you're Queen,
But you grow cruel, and mean.
Times catches up, and karma finds light.
All the wrong deeds come into sight.
My poor King, it's off with his head.
Now I take the chair, the poor king is dead.
YOU ARE READING
April Showers
PoetryThis collection is for the Versification challenge for the month of April. Each chapter is a prompt themed story or poem. Thank you for taking the time to read along, let me know what you think!
