This short poem critique on monarchy and aristocracy, as well as the mental and moral gymnastics that the nameless rabble often go through to justify such an unjust spectacle.
The Flimsiest of Throngs
A mist
A throng of onlookers
A boy called out
The king has no clothes
And from then on
The flimsiest throng
Held
That the king must be really good
Looking
