The Three Kings
How they changed the Christmas story
The Three Kings
King one, he was a tight arse,
he spent only on what was needed.
King two, he was a minimum eater,
he was a skinny little bleeder.
King three, full of hours,
no one could trust him one bit.
As the kings ruled their lands with flair,
Their people watched with a wary stare.
King one saved every coin he could find,
While King two was hardly kind.
King three, oh, he played his games,
Leaving his kingdom in a maze.
But in the end, their tales were told,
And all three kings, though bold and cold,
Became quite hot in a Christmas story,
As they sat in a manger,
and became part of the glory.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (1)
What a poem for a classic. Good job