In the Mind of my Mother, In the Mind of Me

In the mind of my mother dishes are cleaned and neatly stacked all on her account. His dress shirts are washed and neatly pressed in great, abundant amounts. In the mind of me the chores calender hangs on the fridge for everyone to see each day is crossed and checked and marked back to him, then me. In the mind of my mother she is the ash tray where he lays his cigarette down burnt out worn down stopping for a rest. In the mind of me I am the cigarette, he constantly reaches for addictive powerful dangerous. In the mind of my mother she paints on her smile and puts on her evening pearls, how neatly she sits, and smooths out her pleats with her perfect ringlet curls. In the mind of me I throw on my sweatpants and sigh, plopping down on the couch. How good he is, he listens to my day, Get this mom! I'm aloud to slouch! In the mind of my mother she is a trophy case neatly arranged and perfectly polished sometimes he stops to admire. But in the mind of me I am a circus he stares in awestruck, watching my tricks and flips, juggling the fire. In the mind of my mother she is not a slave, just a wife but I think she is insane. In the mind of me I'm not there to serve him, I am his princess Long may I reign