The king sat on his throne,
bored, bloated, alone,
except for his long trusted fool.
He’d dance to his master’s tunes,
and lash out at buffoons,
who’d dare call the monarchy cruel.
But the commonfolk protested,
at the lies the fool jested,
and the cash he splashed and put to waste.
The people requested,
the fool be ejected,
from the royal court, post-haste.
Bitter, angry and down,
at being given the boot,
our fool donned a red crown,
and declared the king’s ruling moot!
“I’ll revolutionise this land of corruption and greed,
and starting with me, I’ll give to those in need!”
Our fool needed support, but he was no charmer,
except to the odd Limpopo land farmer,
so he was joined by a wealthy and charismatic charmer,
who had run faraway from the king.
They called him Mr Sushi, which suited the party,
as the nation had never seen so fishy a thing.
The country still laughed, though,
even as the joker stamped his feet,
and the Sushi Lord soon tried to change tack.
He left his friend’s horde,
returning to the money he’d stored,
but hasn’t ruled out going back.