The Gypsy Dance King

Organizing was his thing,
and he wanted much more.
He'd have a Spring dance,
on the old forest floor.

Directing others,
into organized events,
out in the open air,
no need for tents.

Something happened
in that early Spring,
when the birds went quiet
and they wouldn't sing.

A sad time when this occurred,
but all in all,
things returned to happy times,
for he had taken control.

Control of others, for all,
upcoming, new events,
but this time,
he needed tents.

There is something strange,
when events begin to fail,
for you feel you are trapped
into a new mental jail.

Give up your power
for people you cannot control,
for what you see now,
is pure hyperbole.