Lady, I know where you’re coming from
Treat us right, you say
Treat us with respect
We’re worth so much more than that, you say
But what did you expect
This body, it’s here for the taking
Because it’s been taken before
It’s been there before, you see, my dear
So we’re not queens anymore
If we’re generous enough to offer
And lonely enough to endure
And foolish enough to stay for seconds
We can’t call ourselves queens anymore, anymore
We can’t call ourselves queens anymore
I just nominated you in the “Versatile Blogger Award”, read about it and what you have to do here:
http://versatilebloggeraward.wordpress.com/about/
“generous enough to offer, and lonely enough to endure …”
That. Right there. Exactly so.
I imagined this poem as a song in a pastoral play, with women singing as a chorus in the fields, sad and melancholy. And I wrote it because I wanted people to disagree with it. It’s not meant to be true.