Poem #27

I will just watch them bark, trying to get a taste of me.
I will listen to them claiming they own some part of me.
I will nod quietly to their statements about making me.
I am not yours to claim, to own or to make.

Finally, I’ve adjusted this crown on my head.
You are pawns, I am the queen.
All of you miserable boys combined can’t do what I’m capable of.
The fear is gone, the need is extinguished.
Come at me little boy, you won’t win this.


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