The Old Farmer 3000 B.C. Poem by David McLansky

I had hoped at least to outlive his reign,
This evil King, our God ordained,
To kick some dust upon his head,
Our much feared Lord who ruled wih dread.
He cast a pall upon our land,
This selfish fool, this stupid man,
What griefs we've known through his misrule,
Irrate commands, what judgements cruel;
Oh, bitter earth, more bitter truth,
When I recall my sparkling youth;
What prophecies his birth proclaimed,
What promised joy, his throne attained!
We marched, his soldiers, proud of heart,
Beneath his arm to play our part;
Our brilliant spears flashed in the sun,
Our claim to fame, his chosen ones.

(to be cont'd)