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Fortune

Seven decades waiting
Before this came to pass -
Replaced his regal mother
When she ran out of gas.

His face is on a coin now,
Enshrined and now embossed,
Reflecting his ascension -
The monarchy’s new boss.

Congrats for the achievement,
His parent’s youthful whim,
For scheduling conception
The crown belongs to him.

Bringing instant riches
In their shadow he would stalk
With every decade’s passing,
In the margins he would walk.

While the kingdom’s reach receded,
Its influence would quail,
And a bride would gain more stature
Than did the Prince of Wales.

But finally now arriving
He rides the taxpayer’s dole
His face now graces coinage, 
The monarch’s great role.

His face is in the pocket
Of subjects and the tools,
Fulfilling his good fortune
With money and the jewels.
Published inPoetry

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