Learn more about other poetry terms
Who do haughty kings and queens think they are? Perhaps they consider themselves superior life forms. Money and material possessions do not make a person.
I feel like I am three years old, With the authority of a king I can send ships, I can rule the city I can create wealth and induce poverty
How to heaven cries for you, that these were merit and sound apart, from me in a better form for loser life in shares, to hallow in a war for where was me to knowing who was gone, from these in a human battleing, that there was more to ark in me a
I’m an ambitious man. A tool of destiny, a puppet of fate, transcending all of humanity. Cunning and charismatic, I seek
Once upon a time there lived a belle. Who could not withstand living in a world which seemed as a forbidden hell; So she wept and slept the suffering away-- Her name was sleeping beauty.
You can't miss heaven and hell at the same time, You heart will always hold on to one. Why not make the right choice, and be righteous? Take a look at Zacchaeus, He once lived a life like yours,
Hello there! I see you're sad,
Not acquainted with these Nights.. Peculiar, yet neighbor to them, related to them... stop enabling him! Departure from the gates. dubbed the savior to him! Channeled through his precognition
"Better Mistakes" Learn from your mistakes and teach a Prince to be a King.We got to teach the young ones to dream big as one's esteem.
Dear love of my life: I wrote this that night that you decided to let me hear those beautiful words again....I love you. And after all these years, your still here...Even though I come back, and again I dissappear.
A heart beating to the sound of a
One day I met a kingAnd asked him why he cried. ''There isn't gold enough,'' he said, ''To leave it all behind'' --
40 acres and a mule How bout 40 million and some fame slaves to old white men's rule and it's such a shame from the NBA NFL MLB to the rap and hip hop music industry
When the blood of kings is shed and the world grows silent, waiting then a single spark of dread breaks the silence of the fighting When the blood of kings is shed
The best kings have it, the worst kings reject it The trampled peasant is content to have it But is miserable without it No money or power can buy it Yet it equalizes all, for they are seen as the same