Colin F. Jones

KING OF THE MOLE HILL

It is nice to be considered to be King,
But I am more like a little mouse,
And you can't hear anything,
In our quiet little house.

My day is mostly spent in work,
And tending to my wife,
For neither one would I shirk,
Lest too early we lose life.

My lovely wife lives in pain,
She suffers greatly every day,
And neither one of us use blame,
It takes not the pain away.

We are thankful for the lives we have,
For our children who are grown,
And the grand children that we have,
We are never left alone.

I am often caused to smile when,
Some people try to sow,
Their spite into a poison pen,
Expressing things they do not know.

Foolish folk like you my dear,
Who do not have a clue,
Hiding from their doubts and fears,
As braggarts often do.

I've long been used to being kind,
To those who think I'm not,
The ignorant and the mental blind,
Victims of their own ill plot.

I am happy that you found a way,
To beat your unhappy past,
That's all I have right now to say,
But these words won't be my last.