the queen

The internal battle rages on.

False attribution

Here I stand

A million questions

Not all answered

But many said

I would be better than that

I'd be better than them

At least that's what they said

In my head

Reality makes sickness

Cures are in dreams

Dreams make me long

For something to cling

For something to make me seem

Less me

So at least I can become more me

So I can climb that tree

And act majestically

Tough irony

That in reality

I am weak

Bones too brittle

Will too weedy

Heart too cold

And just about average

In everything

Average face

Average words

No birth given aptitude

For perfect attitude

No compliments

No adulation

False attribution

A tug-o-war of seedy sorts

I cannot adjudicate

What will will distort

Whether I'm a genius in bars

Or an imbecile in court

Either way

They don't see me the same

Just a weak contender

Just another struggler

Just a fourth-placer

Just a part-time liar

Try as I will

I will never be the best

Yet false attribution

Dictates I am not like the rest

I am a gem

If not to them

To I do I seem

A talentless queen

The End

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