by Nick Gisburne
I see you, teacher, come to feed me lies
The chosen one they said would soon appear
An intricate deception clouds your eyes
The comical incompetence is clear
Believe that I am sworn to strike you down
With all who came so recklessly before
A child, yet still I contemplate the crown
The twisted prince, too evil to ignore
It seems you were misguided, or misled
How much, in gold, to educate a boy?
Too little for the safety of your head
As king I shall remove it as a toy
But come, begin the lesson, little man
Or better yet, escape me, if you can
