Like Royalty

Sometimes, she doesn't get out of bed.

It seems so difficult.

The color of sadness is so deep.

But she must rise.

Her subjects need attention. 

Is it not strange.

In the past, purple was associated with royalty.

And now purple is pain.

She has so many colors and subjects.

And  she's afraid the purple is there.

Mixed in to the blue of her bruises.

It spreads under her black scars that she fails to hide.

As ever present as the brown in her eyes.

Because someone has failed her.

A promise has been broken again.

The person, whose royalty had matched her own.

Is now afflicted with their own purple patches.

Self created and self sustained.

Her purple subjects will forever remain.

And the Queen, with all her strength from the purple

Will forever reign.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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