When I was little, I was entertained by a story,
About a king who would sneak out almost every nightly,
No it wasn’t for an affair, a rendezvous or a secret supper,
Nor was it without logical reasons either.
You see, while reports from his advisors were prompt and good,
The king had long suspect it’s just to lift his mood,
Hence the sneaking around at night, so see things true with his eyes,
For then will he be able, to tell truth from lies.
As my watch strike two in the morning, being at a place I normally will not be,
How I wished my king would walk the streets with me,
Political protest they said, but peace is all he will see,
A common sight among the sea of bodies, is the faces that are proudly happy.
The king would ask me questions, like what is the purpose of this all?
Isn’t it odd to see parents bring their kids so small?
How can that old couple stay up so late without sleep?
Why the proud looks on their face with any stranger that they meet?
Have there been so many homeless, as they flood the dusty sidewalks?
Why are common people, so engaged with random talks?
What makes busy executives sacrifice a day of rest?
Giving up their usual comforts, for something far from a fest?
Why are youngers singing songs, as they march down the carless streets?
Why do they walk on, when they are tired from head to feet?
How can my security officers stand by, not providing aid when they should?
What makes the tourists stay up, far longer than they could?
Why are people honking in a rhythm, without a conductor present?
What makes a guy sing in public, even though he clearly lacks the talent?
Why are birthday songs sung by thousands, even if the ones celebrating are so few?
Why are free packs of food being given, complete with a Mountain Dew?
Many questions were asked, yet the answers eluded him,
Could it be he’s too blind to see the faces of his people suffering?
Where was the vision that was once noble, honest and great?
Where is courage, honor and strength of late?
As I opened my eyes, trying to answer to the king that could have been there,
A dream it has been after all, back to a reality we the people mutually share,
For if the king had walked the streets with me and see what I’ve seen,
There may still hope for him, to be the great king he could have been.