I Am Both The Tree And The Lightning That Strikes It



It’s supposed to be my term,

but it is her portrait that hangs prominently on the office wall.

She remains a featured presence on relevant social media sites,

yet I am nowhere to be found.

At every turn, I am reminded

that she may be the favored candidate.

 I attempt to take pride in my victory,

but there is no indication that I’ve truly won the vote.

There are secret conversations —

inappropriate to begin with, misleading in nature —

and I am left to worry.

I’m in the dark, not stupid.

Funny, how concern is shown for her feelings…

she is unbothered, seemingly unaware of my existence.

I wince inwardly as I overhear her being fondly remembered

while I am rejected outright.

There is supposed to be a clear and peaceful transition of power –

out with the old and in with the new.

Without recognition or loyalty,

I am doomed to fail.

All I had wanted was to faithfully collaborate and inspire.

Now, it is my job to be dutiful despite the maltreatment,

to smile and be pleasant as I’m disrespected,

to hope for a fair chance,

to keep one ear to the ground,

to wait.

But I don’t need anyone else to place me in a position of authority.

I was born a queen,

honorable and mighty,

luminous and without an equal.

I already have absolute power –

to welcome or exile, pardon or punish,

protect or execute.

I compete with no one,

and just as each term has a limit,

my darling,

so do I.



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