Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 25



Princess No More



Decent is less obvious than accent and so it is with dethroning; those who put you upon the gilt alter with much aplomb feel no qualm in taking you down with not as much as a word or a grunt. The wind has changed and your reign is over, the poor startled girl is suddenly in the street. For a scepter is not a club and why fight for a throne, which is proven to be nothing more than a straight backed chair once separated from its right relationships. The horror of unexpected common status is for the young bride an issue of safety and trust not of ego or presumption. Who is she without the Prince, the Knight, she is Princess No More.




Take time to wipe unshed tears


*

NO GOLD STARS

I look at my chart
Then my chest
There are no gold stars

I long for the affirmation
Of my Great
And seemingly endless struggle

I watch the movements of those shiny shoes
And hope to be awarded
With the gummed insignia

When I hang by a thread I desire corroboration
Of foil cutouts to assure me I have done the right
I have stayed alive

Punishment I fear less than lack of consolation
But no one truly knows my bravery
And if I want these paper emblems
I can just go and buy my own.