Last Place – Poem

Paint the clown into place
Slip the pillow over your face
Don’t let the façade call from grace
Never forget to remember your place
You have never stood a chance in the matriarch race
But it was never because you tripped on a lace
It can’t be your fault that you’re from outer space
Perhaps they all judged you with too much haste
Or you simply travel at a different pace
Are you the one bottle of cider in a Rose wine case?
It is simply that they are not of the same taste?

Perhaps it is they that are in the wrong case
It is them travelling at an incorrect pace
And once upon a time they were judged in haste
Nothing should stop everyone existing in the same space
Without needing their hands tied behind them with a lace
And you can all be Queen of your matriarchal race
Be positioned at the top spot, all in prime of place
As a group, you could all be virtues of grace
So remove the pillow from over your face
Live together in a harmonious place.

© 20th July 2014

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