| 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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