(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