are you ready for another bad poem?

here, listen to the words i say.

because,

unlike the falsehoods you've been fed,

i will tell you the truth.

Hark! the herald angels lie.

glory to mr. lord on high.

will we bow?

No.

I am a girl, not a dog.

Not your property,

Not anyone's property.

I will not be suffocated by your

patriarchal mantra.

he fights to clear his own name.

he lies, he lies.

I will not listen.

I am among the forgotten,

a b****,

a narcissist,

an impasse in myself,

and i will bow before NO

man,

woman,

president,

or royal.

Hark! the herald angels cry

kisses to the king on high

high heaven?

high horse?

would you mind if i knocked you down a notch?

or all the way?

i curl my hair,

i paint my face.

i do it to prove to everyone

that i am one of them so they will listen to

another bad poem.

because according to HIS HIGHNESS,

this is all i am capable of.