Atlas Dwyer / 11
The monarchs in their golden crowns
They are indeed a lovely sight
Sat high above the littered ground
To rest by day and fly by night
The people look in silent awe
And point their cameras up to see
A beauty bright as precious dawn
That human hearts can only dream
I breathe in the autumn air
That smells of pine and distant sea
Forgetting it’s not nice to stare
As, for a moment, I am free
The bitter truth creeps back to mind
Of why I begged my parents so
My fears of running out of time
Of losing soon my chance to go
I pray that someday far from now
A little boy will raise his eyes
And see a thousand golden boughs
I pray that beauty never dies
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