Princess Poem by moon batchelder

she deems herself a princess i suppose;
or so it seems by her demeanor.
idleness supreme
is blamed upon fragility, altho
no weakness and no ailment's seen to
justify the claim.

she never lifts a hand her life to own;
considers not the gifts she's given,
thinks it all her due.
and must sit court for fear of time alone.
'tis sin or crime unbidden if
she's not attended to.

unlikely to admit when she's been wrong;
delusions suit her appetite, she
plays the victim well.
nor seeks to find out where she might belong
exertion is beyond her quite. and
if the truth we tell

she takes offense as tho the merest slight
were so intense as to destroy her!
vulnerability
is but a mask she hides behind, - lest sight
of who she really is annoy us.
no victim princess she!