KING AND QUEEN

                Life was served to you on a silver platter,
                And fed to you on a silver spoon.
                Spit it up it doesn't matter.
                If you're dethrowned tomorrow, it's not too soon.

                Maladjusted, but picture perfect.
                Full of zeal, but frozen cold.
                Strange how you are esoteric.
                You'll earn your respect when you're poor and old.

                Your cause at any cost.
                A creature to become lost.
                Not fair by any means.
                Who'll be the king and queen of the anarchaic queens?

                Your life is just as a five act play,
                All your moves are from a script.
                At the edges you will begin to fray,
                And at the sides are stained and ripped.

                Once, your possessions were varnished,
                And all your skies were blue.
                But now your platter is tarnished,
                And you don't have a clue.

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