QUEENS

We crown ourselves.

We crown ourselves because no one else will.

We crown ourselves because we deserve a crown.

To reflect from the frowns thrown our way by passers on throughout the day.

We wear our crowns high with chains and swagger.

We cut through this jungle with verbal dagger.

Our crowns are our only defence against the resenting presence.

Our armour in a social war,

Come at me Queens unleash their claws.

So many times the doors were shut yet we will not shut up.

We thought the work was done but it seems not so.

We have retreated into the cold snow hiding under straight disguise lying to reduce glare from their eyes.

Where have the crowns gone?

Back in their boxes and under the bed?

Are we to leave ourselves for dead?

I think not my dear for I stand proudly queer,

And my crown shows that i’m clearly here.

Not shy you pry into my open book filled with colour and grace and a lip on my face for your distaste.

It’s time to embrace something new.

A world were crowns are worn by you too.

But not for armour and not for need,

Instead they are crowns to show you are free!