I've seen The King's Speech, and boy I felt tense
By film's end. All those close-ups of inner
Struggle for outward expression, to cleanse
The mind of fear, to cleanse... the mind... of fear
To forget learned bad habits, to feel freer
We all felt we were Bertie at some point
Of personal crisis, though commoners
With crises that are far less important
Than stuttering when the nation anoints
You monarch. The poor rich man had few friends
Fearsome nannies, a hot-tempered father
And an older brother who'd disappoint
Them all and quit the throne as the Germans
Mobilised, but he fought off his stammer
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