INDIGNITY

Is this the final indignity

Your royal bones in the common view

Your curved spine exposed to mockery

Collected from a Leicester car park

Was defeat at Bosworth not enough

Thrown from your horse into a field of blood

Betrayed by those in whom you trusted

Wounded by a bard’s cruel fantasies

Richard last of the Plantagenets

Where will your unwanted remains rest

Not in Windsor, not in Westminster

But far from court in some northern tomb

Better to have left you undisturbed

Invisible, deep below the ground

Safe from further scorn and ridicule

To await the final trumpet call.

Copyright(C)David Subacchi.2013