by Glen Martin Fitch
Vast kingdoms once
did span this shrinking sphere.
One monarch bold
a million men could rule.
To teach the dumb,
protect the poor from fear,
to sow these seeds,
a scepter was his tool.
If I could have
an empire of my friends
to aid and guide,
the happiness I'd find.
I'd plant and reap
a love that never ends
and hoard it in the coffers
of my mind.
But now I see
my gifts were bribes,
not seeds.
Good will
was to enslave you,
not to free.
I am a tyrant
out of fear and greed.
From loneliness it is
that I aggress.
Your solitude
was never poverty.
It is my bounty
that is barrenness.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011