I pulled some weeds today,
Out of the gravel plot,
And then you went away,
The reason, I forgot.
But then, I always knew
A flame burns bright and short,
But a burn speaks true,
In a princess’s court.
Though, the funny thing is,
I still feel like a king,
With naive, poor princes,
Who don’t know a poor thing,
About what it means when,
A king loses good men.
Gravel
