When I was young I used to rule the world.
I took control of almost every country on this Earth.
My name is England.
I felt like I was God- like the world was in the palm of my young hands and I owned it all. I felt like my pirates owned every ocean, my men owned all the land, I owned all nations.
But I was wrong.
I lost it all. All my fame. All my greatness one day slipped through my hands like grains of sand. I fought for my power, but I was pulled as if I was a puppet tied to strings that only dragged me down. All my countries called for independence, they left me, helped pull me down. They all ruined me, laughed in my face, and battled me.
Wars.
They tore me into pieces.
Left so many scars. Others left me, forgot me, forced me to lose my power. I crumbled to the ground. Even the ones I raised left me. Asked for independence. Let me drown in my own sea.
No one tried to help me by insuring me a life jacket. No one cared.
Maybe I called for it. Maybe all my fame messed with my mind- broke me down.
My name is England.
And I used to rule the world.
