I am a victim of overwhelming nostalgia
How I hate the thought of those days;
Reminiscence so bitter yet memoirs so sweet.
That day on ya’ cute head I put a diadem
In the kingdom of ma’ heart became a queen.
So happy on my head you put a crown
The ritual automatically made me a king.
I have reigned for quite so long ya’ majesty
Yet today I seethe with this feeling, rage.
I search my broken heart day and night
For a vestige of what I once felt for you
I am sorry to say I find none
All along I have lived with the pain
Of the betrayal of the love I had for you.
Officially you’d anointed me ya’ king
On the contrary I was ya’ lackey all ma’ reign;
The love- intoned songs you sang for me
On ma’ back you made me a clown
I was the first king to carry the queen’s fan.

Read more: http://authspot.com/poetry/rage-28/#ixzz1W3TJyGMe


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