No Gowns, Crowns or Grace

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.


It appears I’ve finally ruled out one thing in life I don’t want to be.

Queen of the World.