— The Birth Of A Kingdom — A Poem

Once upon a time, in a lonesome land far far away,
Where people had laws and freedoms to say.
There was no King; and there were no Subjects,
Only written rights and a loathing of disrespect.
 
Yet nothing is promised and nothing guaranteed,
Some will surely fail and some surely succeed,
But there were scarce few whom refused to try.
They, the few, who did want but did never decide,
Mistakenly believing that any freedom was free,
They should have from others what they should see.
 
They complain of “them” and group themselves in,
To the light, and the dark, and the fat and the thin.
Those who see, who need, and whom cannot read.
They would claim it unfair and then plant the seed,
To create a union and compile their naughty greed,
Justifying their wants but ignoring their depravities.
 
“We can all do well”, they say, leaving no one to fail,
As we take the most from those who strive or prevail.
They design; they invent, and they manage to create,
We can’t do it ourselves, so let’s take it by the state.
 
They’ll surrender their goods if we all stand strong,
We’ll attack those all who declare us wrong.
We took just a bit, and they did not fight our power,
When we take a speck more they’ll hide and cower.
 
When they learn their place, we’ll take as we will,
Those first who stand up, are those first we’ll kill.
We’ll reform our nation, and impose a stout King,
To do what we think will keep us from wanting.
 
As is always the case, the King bloats corrupt,
He does what he wills, and takes what he wants.
And The Kingdom grows, and takes the land of those
who want nothing to do with any Kingdoms at all,
Whilst Kingdom creates laws after laws after law.
 
Another sure fault as the Kingdom makes haste,
It grows like a weed, leaving a bitter pungent taste,
In the throats and souls of those it subjugates.
Emerging ever larger and claiming all it stakes.
 
Awakening factions will see what’s borne for them,
Deciding enslavement is a worse way to condemn.
The King and Kingdom at first “asked” for our compliance,
Then they requested, demanded, and imposed our silence.
First what we ate, wore, and then what we bought at the store,
Eventually it was what we saw, heard, said, and ever more.
 
The Kingdom dictated we buy articles of its mandate,
To stand up and call attention draws us a far worse fate,
If we did not comply, we received taxes; lashes; or both,
The Kingdom stole our wealth, and gave itself our growth.
 
…Until the response of the enslaved was, “NO MORE!”;
The era of voluntary compliance was thereby OVER!
The King sent in his constables to force them to pay.
There were not enough police to secure that day.
 
Offended and angered, the serfs felt betrayed,
Seething rage took over and running riots were made.
It was no longer wrong to ignore the King’s command,
The Constables threatened, but were outnumbered 800-to-10.
The villagers raised their spades, and buried those Kings men.
 
The King called in his Knights to go secure his homeland,
No one would speak to them, nor lend them a hand.
With more and more of their property declared contraband,
Fewer and fewer still would accept the Kings demands.
 
After weeks of patrolling and collecting the Kings dues,
Knights, armor rusted, and their Knight enforced curfews,
Having to sleep sometime they did,
…and as they slept, their throats were sawed through.
 
The King was beside himself and sent for his soldiers,
To do what it took, anything, to institute his orders.
Aggressive at first, the soldiers promptly did learn,
You lose when surrounded by villagers and serfs 50-to-1.
Honorable soldiers deserted and refused to murder and kill,
The rest were hunted, ambushed in streets, and slain wholesale,
…and the remainder soon lost their will.
 
The Kingdom did fall; but never to another,
Their insides blown out, the tyrants were gunned-over.
For posterity, it was villagers, individuals, and a few brave,
That skinned the corrupt King, and danced on his grave.

Pinckney

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