| Pharaoh Is it a bad thing I asked you? You told me no, led me to believe it was ok. You would care and it would be ok; we had something. You wanted me and wanted this to be a grand future. You want to be someone, you want to grow to be respected and honored. You lied you are just the same as you have always been. I'm falling I said. You assured me it would be ok and then ran in cowardice reaction. Avoided me, hurt me and pretended it is nothing. Brushed me off like your heart couldn’t be touched. I am not like the other chambered maids. I will not wait for you to remember my kiss and pray to the sun and moon that I may once again find your favor. Bravely carry yourself, for weak is how you walk. Wounded is what your face betrays. Still I saw past it and thought I was of value to you. I could only add to your sanctuary. Hurt is all I feel, how could you turn away from something with so much promise? Carefully I tread, knowing I have idiot delicately sewn in even my finest garments and no matter how gracefully I carry myself, the coterie knows. You still walk wounded and I can only walk foolishly. . . |
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