The Crazy Mild King

The crazy mild king,
In his youth he sits. 
Boredom he's never brought 
Surrounded by misfits.
He sits all day long
Barely eating a bit
'Cause the crazy mild king
Likes his clothes to fit. 
His people are happy
They're all proletariat:
They've no reason to complain
In a kingdom so fit. 
He sometimes makes laws,
But doesn't enjoy it. 
The crazy mild king
Would rather just plain sit. 
Those that are unhappy
Are thrown in the muddy pit;
Then the people and the king
All watch the sloppy fit.
Everyone does laugh
And use a bit of wit
The crazy mild king though
Just sits and sits and sits.
There's food and joy and beds
In this kingdom you won't forget
Somehow the crazy mild king,
Has performed his lonely bit.