Mine eye sees

Power and strength in me.

In confrontations both


And mental

A wizard of prowess.

Ever a victor;

At the very least

I prevail.


Alas, not true.

Though I adore

The minting

In my rosy pictured mind.

In most cases

I am a coward

Fleeing from confrontation.

The coinage of my

Presses is fool’s gold.


I swagger in peace

And cower in war.




From time to time

There is truth

In my bravery;

In my willingness

To confront.

Though I can not

Count on them

These few moments

So I dream instead

And mint my majesty.