Sonnet 566

What praise lies in the raiments of a king?
What power’s vested in a jeweled crown—
And to a spawn of earth, what psalms to sing
Where lineage alone confers renown?
What gives one being might by blood to rule?
What crux of life defines a better birth?
What forged belief is held by jesters’ fools
That they mouth scripted lines of paltry worth?
The merit of all men lies in their deeds
Where by invention they so prove their right,
For unearned honor ever truth impedes
And nepotism every worth does blight.
From crowded masses let that soul arise
To stand alone, reach up and touch the skies.

© Loubert S. Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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