This is a poem I wrote about Henry VIII of England and all his poor six wives. I was bored when I wrote it and put it up on another writing website I'm on, http://www.panhistoria.com.
Oh Henry
What a bad man you have been
You really tend to sin
You make me weary
You have left a legacy
You have left a destiny
You have left England poor
With all of your
Wants of war
You divorce dear Katherine of Aragon
You abandoned Mary
Look at what you now must carry
You now have this huge burden
Oh Henry
What a bad man you have been
You really tend to sin
You make me weary
You have left a legacy
You have left a destiny
You have left England poor
With all of your
Wants of war
You murder Anne Boleyn
On false charges of adultery
And on charges of witchery
You abandoned Elizabeth
Look at what you have just did
Oh Henry
What a bad man you have been
You really tend to sin
You make me weary
You have left a legacy
You have left a destiny
You have left England poor
With all of your
Wants of war
You let Jane Seymour die
Because of your greed
You are mean
You love Edward
Oh Henry
What a bad man you have been
You really tend to sin
You make me weary
You have left a legacy
You have left a destiny
You have left England poor
With all of your
Wants of war
You divorce Anne of Cleves
You force her aside
You have a bad mind
You think her unfit for you
Oh Henry
What a bad man you have been
You really tend to sin
You make me weary
You have left a legacy
You have left a destiny
You have left England poor
With all of your
Wants of war
You murder Katherine Howard
Who can blame her to cheat
You forced her to wed
She should be left a martyr
Oh Henry
What a bad man you have been
You really tend to sin
You make me weary
You have left a legacy
You have left a destiny
You have left England poor
With all of your
Wants of war
You die with Catherine Parr
Look how far you are
You leave her in charge
Perhaps you have changed
Oh Henry
What a bad man you have been
You really tend to sin
You make me weary
You have left a legacy
You have left a destiny
You have left England poor
With all of your
Wants of war
Six wives
You naughty boy
Women aren’t your toy
