All
The wrong ones
Reign

For their bow
Or grandest
Gesture

To preserve
Such fragile
Egos

Like glass
Which always
Breaks

And reminds us
Love
Won’t wait

For that gold
With diamond
Chalice

Still holding
Wine
Transparent

As this
Monarch
Taking sips-

Proving
Some might
Claim

How their liquor
Seems
Sufficient

When believing
Crown
And crystal

Are a worthy
Gauge
Of cause,

But our grail
Of honest
Kings

Still cracked
From being
Decent

Abounds
Where drops
And torment

For the sake
Of keeping
Dust

Lays sacred
In its
Vase

So the poor
May have
Their supper

Or a chance
At finding
Glory

Near this well
As dry
As bone

From a leader
Proud
Yet parched

Who preys
On weakest
Servants

Quenched
By tears
Of nothings

Contained
Within his
Grasp.

God
Where God
Is man

And stone
For those
Who question

Yet flesh
As much
As many

Who walk
This kingdom
Come.

– J. Pigno