She was tall and thin,
old and grey.
When I looked at her my blood ran cold.
She had been kicked & beaten,
battered and bruised.
Her name was midnight,
always in the light.
She had scars and marks,
and had been far.
One day I found her crying in the park.
She had told me,
“Honey, I’m alright. I’m a little down on my luck.
Take a lesson from me child:
Never give yourself wholly to a man,
they always end up screwing you over.
For you see, my child,
I was a girl who fell in love with a boy.
Life was perfect for me.
Little did I know I was sleeping with a stranger.
He took everything from me,” she cried & cried,
Well not everything. I am royalty you know.”
I played along.
“Royalty you say, lady midnight?
Are you as grand as a princess with hair of gold?
Or, are you as rich as a Queen?”
“Didn’t you know? Dear Child, I am the trashcan Queen.
I have no wealth, no silver, no gold,
but I have a place to call home.
Where I am the President, the dictator,
and the Queen in all. Where I am free to be me, crazy & purple.
For you see I like purple.
What I wouldn’t give,
to have a wall painted purple!”