And all the king’s horses
And all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty
Together again
Looking up at the little people,
Up there, at the top of the wall.
I’m wondering if it is just
Because they are far away,
Or if they really are that small.
Yet I know that they’ll never look down
For they like to pretend they are untouchable,
To pretend, that they’re in control of it all.
And why would they threaten that pretence
Why would they let us see,
That they’re just scared little boys
Frightened they’ll fall.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
Made of sticks and stones 