He strode the
corridors of his imagination
Convinced of his
authority
A toddler king, whose royalty
Needed a
royal tantrum
He pontificated
And vociferated with
vehemence
His brilliant
ignorance
Impressed by his wind.
No royal jester would
he tolerate
To teach him modesty
He was the king
Crowned in his
incompetence
Perhaps there’ll come
a day
When wounded by his
pride
He might learn, like
Parsifal
The lessons of a man
Yet I suspect
The toddler king
Will grow more toddler
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