Fb Poem Poem by Daniel Y.

The Blue Queen has droves of admirers.
The charismatic youth on her side.
Continual reform, and radical change,
to the point of frivolous frill.
At first, nothing wrong with her display,
but a matter of time to rue the day.
When sinister minds beheld the crown,
and peasant hands forsook the plow.
Her vanity sink, polished to reflection,
shows a hideous face.
Though one must look closely to see it.
It’s hidden beneath her jars and vases;
perfumes, and color, and a million faces.
It holds her dozens of cures;
elixirs of heartache and head.
We’re blinded to see
the beauty that be.
Or else we scream:
off with her head.