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Make him a king
Who was born with a spoon of gold
But if only
He has dined in the squalor of the poor
Don't make him a king
If like a hawk he was born hungry
For on his wing
He will always prey on the awry
Please make not a king
One who was born poor but now rich
I know his eyes
Will on the humble always twitch
Like a paint
Childhood reposes on the canvas of life
Even a saint
Or a Michael has his own archive
A child born hungry
Makes a grubbing rich; always angry
But one born wealthy
Makes a humane poor; always healthy
Make him our king
Who was born rich but tasted our plight
A Christ-like king
Who will always feel and heal our blight
izu,
+2348034462772
izuk_norbert@yahoo.com
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