A Rusty Crown - Random Writing

Stomping around like this is your kingdom, your crown slips and slides from the top of your head. You scramble to catch it before it hits the floor with an unattractive clang, but you miss and trip over your own faults and skid across the dirt floor that's sprinkled with salt to burn every wound you received on your way down.

You land with a gruff "oof" that escapes your chapped lips -- chapped from all the trash you talk, constantly mouthing off but never taking care for the lips that form your words. What a life you lead, your kingdom is slowly bringing you down to your knees.

More and more people see through your facade, see the rust that's growing every day along the edges of your crown. Oh darling, you're outdated and your tricks are used up. Time to move on, grow up, and get a new crown in a new kingdom. You can do it, I know you can, you have all the skills to manipulate your way up the royal ladder. But we are done with it here.

The climb was thrilling, the peak was high, and the sun had shown down on you brightly for quite some time, but now there are more clouds crowding your sunny sky than ever before. So heed my words, and take your leave. We don't want you here anymore.