Why not wash, ‘Royal Filth’, in public
When it sells, dearer than, traditions
Since Buckingham, became, a Re-public
And its princes, their brides’, minions!

Why should, they be, different from us
Except for, their fights, ignite tabloids
Between ‘poisonous’, ‘vicious’, ‘malicious’,…
Sly smiles, fill up, their vanity’s voids!

They serve monologues, o’er, daily news
And dialogues, o’er, interviews
Queen’s left, to grieve, her posterity
Within, discipline of, austerity!

Estrangement is, new faith, and fear
O’er royal rumpus, prejudice, presides
Britain bares, the bones, of its, stately smear
Two Broken Prides, Between, Brittle Brides!

© 2021 Vikas Chandra