She won't read them because I don't send them, can't send them. Ironically my pen is what gained me this visit to the dungeon, wetting the paper with my words in an attempt to wet the Queen. The King is a petty and jealous man and didn't appreciate finding the thoughts I'd put to paper for the benefit of his wife and immediately ordered me arrested.
My letters were saucy, dripping with sexuality, desire and lust. My letters told the Queen of my undying affection, loyalty, and worship. My letters to the Queen caused me to climax as I wrote them and I hope they elicited the same reaction from her. My letters to the Queen are going to be the death of me.
If I'd listened to my mother maybe this would have been avoided. She cautioned me several times not to cross the king, my uncle, when I was sent to live with him. She pointedly told me to keep my rhymes and raps to myself but she was set on me going to live in the castle after the incident.
The incident, a cruel day to be sure. It started when a couple of guys who were up to no good, started making trouble in my neighborhood. I got in one little fight and my mom got scared and said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air' I whistled for a cab and when it came near The license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I can say this cab is rare But I thought 'Now forget it' - 'Yo homes to Bel Air'. I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8 And I yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes smell ya later'. I looked at my kingdom I was finally there to sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air.
420 words
rating: 13
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