Plain Andrew

Wait a minute sir, you look familiar,

aren’t you that prince, that’s so peculiar?

Who hosted beauty pageants, of those kids,

with that now locked up, socialite pig.


If so, that regalia, it doesn’t suit you,

give it to someone, who’s pure and true,

if you don’t, you’re ignoring her power,

don’t make your mother send you to the Tower,

where the aptly named scavenger’s daughter,

could be the author of your slaughter.


But hey, dead men, can’t say they’re sorry,

so live on, and endure some real life worry,

where alert angry eyes, will be watching you,

making sure that you remain, a plain Andrew!


  • sophin

    good write, auburn. you hold so much hope and kindness for the scorned. have a nice day.

    • AuburnScribbler

      Thanks for the read sophin, and yeah, though in the tabloids and on TV, it's all about the blame game, but, what is important now, is what happens next, to change things for the better.

      Thanks again, and I hope that all is well!

    • Rozina

      I just saw this on the news yesterday. In the end no escape. I enjoyed the poem.

      • AuburnScribbler

        Thanks for the read Rozina, and yeah, if you have blundered this much, no-one is above reproach at all, but again, as I've mentioned in the poem, I hope he sees it through, in a very right way.

        Thanks again, and I hope that all is well!

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