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My Sisters Friends
Watching from my silent post
I feel like such a ghost
The queens walk past
A loud procession
While I cry in a fit of passion
What makes them so good?
So great?
That I am beneath their flowing grace?
Must I always sit forsaken
Alone with no one to play with
What gives them their poise and grace
While I feel as thou I could fall
Whilst standing in place
Do not say it is my age
For younger than I they have cherished
But however much I do admire
I do not wish to have to change
To be approved of by
My sisters friends
