The Paper Queen

You sit there perched upon your hill top
skin glowing from the sweat of your loins
Prying eyes . High opinions . No evidence.
Your hair has long since lost its lustre
Soiled by science and analysis of a world you think you understand.
You preach a way of life you have embraced like it is the only way.
Ignoring in the process that one solution does not fit all.
Convenient oversight or Arrogance? The answer is in the cards.
A lack of inspiration follows you into every room as no music finds your ear.
Sharing your happiness with the world.All the while forgetting that your version of joy may not be theirs.
A nod to the approved (in your eyes). A sneer to the less than perfect ( in your eyes)
You sit high in your ivory tower protecting the wolves in sheeps clothing. (Marvelling at your grace)
Counting blessings made of tin coins. Knighting knaves and cavorting with jesters.

I watch you make your own mistakes. Preaching much but practicing little.
Awe at first but fading fast…dawning realisations and a return to self bring me back to my centre.
My eyes strip you of your foolish magnamous robes.
You stand before me in your truest avatar, wrought from the steel of cold judgement in a bright fire of emotion.
The Portrait revealed at last: A sword in the hand of an emotional fool,her wooden puppet strapped firmly to her knee …
All hail! The Paper Queen and her Pinocchio King.


~ by koc1978 on August 3, 2007.

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