pattern skipped,
1, 2, 3, 11,
underestimated,
red, green, grey,
undervalued,
king, queen, bishop, hey,
now I remain a pawn,
unconsidered,
deprecated,
sunshine and blue skies,
but not me,
spurned for being,
a woman,
with a different voice,
only black coffee for me,
no milk, no latte, no creme,
overlooked,
shunned,
they smile at their friends,
of convenience,
their policies in shreds,
their art ablaze,
they bathe in the Jordan,
dolling favours to their mates,
postponed,
‘trust me’,
‘we will get to you later dear’,
a lie so blatant,
the words aflame in their mouths,
still small miracle that,
I the ‘unwanted’,
my spirit afloat,
in a sea of disdain,
continues to pursue,
any dream of being heard,
do I compromise me?
do I now turn?
abandon the core of me,
and play the games,
so elevation and acclaim can,
one day soon ensue? no?
do I wait to be?
recognised and rewarded,
standing, before crowds,
applauding me, who I am,
elevated justly in celebrations,
for my contribution to others,
my ideas, my love, my art.
There is a curious pain from casual injustice, the social contracts fine print, work hard and be rewarded, but in truth it is mates and other current favoured whom are rewarded. The intricate deceptions never seen by Lords and Masters, too interwoven into them to know what their thoughts and actions are and mean.
Kingy
This ‘Passed over’ reads really well. Commendations. Friend of Kingy