The King Provides

by David Ackley


Oh dear, Oh God, the mothers wept

Our sons do nothing but drink and roar

Smoke their pot and rave and whore.

So the king in his wisdom made them a war.


Oh no, not that,  was the mothers' lament

You could not think this what we meant.

No matter, my dears, his majesty said,

We'll have our peace, now they're dead.