Hoi Polloi

The courtiers have exhausted me
I have no more strength for them
Their endless rules and discipline
Their ways to elevate men

I tire of the jesters’ many styled shows
Their songs and choreographed response
Their chants, their poetry, their simple art
Devoid of all the subtle nuance

The ladies in waiting have much to say
They crave the focus of all daily toil
And make much of every little stage
Their tongues have made much to spoil

The counselors come with many words
They desperately wish to define
They set the law of proper decorum
And cast aside the unrefined

The rabble too gives me much distress
They gather here unconcerned
Yet they claim their piece and then some more
Or else all peace can be upturned

And yet, I find that in this court
It is the King I truly love
And in his suite of hoi polloi
I find I must be one.


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