A callous queen, I will not name,

    Brought up to envision her life as a game,

And known for high fashion as well as her jewels,

    A regent with suitors, her playthings and fools.

A fortune was spent for a playhouse and grounds,

    While the peasants were starving in numerous towns.

Until one hot summer when prisons were stormed,

    Outside of the palace, an angry mob swarmed.

When asked of the outcry, the ministers said,

    The peasants were starving and crying for bread.

But so far removed from the commoner’s plight,

    The queen gave her comment on that vexing sight.

“If they have no bread, they’re better off dead.

    Or no fruit for pie, it’s better to die.

No sugar for cake, then life should forsake.

    If it’s hard as a rock, then let them eat cock!

Be it fried or stewed, or baked in a crock.

    If it’s bread they be lacking, then let them eat cock!”

And who would have thought that a shortage of bread,

    Would cost her a kingdom as well as her head?

Had there been enough roosters to feed to the poor,

    She might have gone reigning for many years more.

end