The Greedy King

Once upon a time there was a king
Who loved his money more than anything:
More than his children, more than his wife,
More than his subjects, indeed, more than his life.

The richest king would be the best,
And he was determined to beat all the rest.
He taxed his subjects, drained them dry
And turned a deaf ear when the hungry would cry.

He'd sit in his tower of cold, grey stone,
Surrounded by riches and yet, all alone.
He’d count it every day at least,
If money were food, he’d have quite a feast.

The tower room was many flights high,
From the small window in it, he could just see the sky.
But he didn’t care if it rained or not,
He just had to know; how much gold in his pot.

An enormous trunk held all his loot;
His diamonds and rubies and emeralds to boot.
All his farthings, his coppers, his gold,
His necklaces, jewelry, his trunk did hold.

It grew quite heavy over the years,
But it wasn’t full yet and that was his fear.
If it wasn’t full, then there had to be more,
So he taxed his subjects as never before.

In the room beneath his attic hoard
Was where he slept, our greedy lord.
In the biggest bed, in the biggest keep,
That’s where this king did nightly sleep.

He dreamed of the items deep in his trunk,
He dreamed of the pirate ship he’d sunk,
He’d dream of the pearls and the stolen doubloons
All kept safe in his tower room.

The years went by and then one day,
The trunk was full, it’s sad to say.
His subjects were hungry, his wife had left,
He was busy counting, not the least bereft.

Now the castle was several hundred years old,
And the floor joists creaked beneath the gold.
There was a definite curve in the board
Directly beneath the king’s mighty hoard.

And so one night while he lay sleeping,
A crack appeared, slowly creeping
Until the weight in the trunk was more
Than the beam could hold, and thus, the floor—

Collapsed on the king in the room below.
When the royal steward in the morning did go
To wake the king –oh what a surprise-
The king was dead and on his eyes

Two pieces of gold had happened to land
And several more were clutch in his hand.
The trunk had spilled its treasure free
Burying the king who was so greedy.

His wife came home with her son, the new king
Who with his subjects shared everything.
The trunk sits empty atop the grave
As a message to all: Beware what you crave.