(poems go here)
Looking at her
with her Chinchilla fur.
Lady of Guidance and Grace
only to shut you down in your face.
With her arrogant brow
she demands all to take a bow .
Fine suits, hats, and pearls
Her perfume makes my hair want to curl.
Her position that of a Queen .
Her carriage that of a tween.
Her ladies in waiting following along
while the rest of us feel dejected and wrong.
Of her milieu: intelligence, humbleness, and gentleness.
Of her double- side: arrogance, snootiness, and vileness.
Fine brown silk hair sheened.
But her truthfulness beamed
Bright like a lighthouse
For all to see the rouse.
How? Can a woman of her status not stand out.
But instead looks like all the others in the crowd