Broken mirror in darkened chamber,
Hundred eyes show ugly reflection,
How sad he is,
In his ivory tower.
Crowds part in the streets,
Bows and obeisance given,
Never asked,
How he curses his isolation.
Beggars in the dirt,
Look up with brightened eyes,
Crooked dirty smiles,
Anchored in the earth.
Sad man floats on ghost feet,
Bedecked in gold and furs,
How sad this king must be,
Truly a pity.
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