A Return

The political mind had given no thought,
To why the king, had bulverized.
He could not help the discussion brought,
By only using his vulgar eyes.

The king had joked and hoped he would see,
Cutting friendly personal incision.
It is the nature of men as they all agree,
To attack their good friend's vision.

He used it once, hoping he'd get the game;
Instead returned with public shame.
Why must he use so cruel of means,
Writing as such a dreadful scheme?

He told him once and he'd tell 'em again,
Oozing with logic, casting like rain.
The king might ask why he thinks thus,
But he thinks he's well; himself he trusts.

By Evan Gunn Wilson