I can’t be a queen.
It’s decided.
I’ve wondered my station in life.
It comes down to a few things.
If I were queen of the world
There would be no gowns, crowns or grace.
There would be me,
In bike shorts, sandals, and a helmet if I’m on the bike.
If I’m not on a bike ride,
Chances are good I’d be barefoot.
I would misspeak.
I would misstep.
I would laugh too loud at stupid things.
And I would refuse to attend any meetings.
If tea is a queen thing I could do that.
But that’s probably not enough.
So
It appears I’ve finally ruled out one thing in life I don’t want to be.
Queen of the World.
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