Scribbles

I want to scribble again after a period of dryness for words. Now that my daughter is eight months old, I can hear the call of ideas shouting inside my head again. Although I have not put my way of expressing a thought into practice, I’m willing to give it another shot. With a bit of luck, I wish to be enthused once more.

Wednesday, July 14, 2004

If only I am the King

I’ll kick the hefty BumbleBee and defend the poor Lad
I’ll be rational, instead of being illogical in making comments
I’ll wear an honest cheerful smile and not a mendacious one
I’ll compliment the people under me for their excellence because they deserve it
I will hear the opinions of my people because they are important to me, and because they brought me to where I am.


But I am not the King, and never will I become one. As much as I want to help the poor Lad and the other wounded people, my efforts are futile. The King is deaf to the people that don’t suit to his liking and this sadness me so much.

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