Greed

Once there was a little boy,
a king's son but no less of a brat,
squawking for every treat and every toy –
a carriage, a pudding, a cat!
The king and the queen thought their son was swell
and his greed was simply ambitious,
ignoring the gossip the peasants would tell
saying such judgement was purely fictitious.
One day an old hag journeyed to the gilded gate,
saying she had something to take to the court.
The watchman asked what she carried in her crate
and the woman said it was of the magical sort.
But no sooner than the silly watchman had lowered the bridge,
the hag reached to the heavens and said,
"Biggety friggety liggety lidge,"
and every soul in the castle dropped dead.
Now, I say every soul, but it was every soul but one
because the hag had spared the king's boy.
She found him eating cake in the balcony sun,
yelling to the maids for another toy.
The hag asked the kid if anything felt out of place
and the brat shrieked that the servants were slow.
The hag cackled that they were dead along with His Grace,
but no care did the little pig show.
He demanded the hag tell him what was in her crate.
She said it was either the box or the revival of the town.
He cried to give him the box since he didn't like to wait
and opening the lid the boy yelped at what he found.
A toothy creature lept onto his contorted face
and devourered the boy in one bite.
The hag turned on her heels and left the place,
flying her broomstick into the night.