The Queen I

I am Queen in
My own realm, looked
At revered and
Disdained as being
Däised, biased and
Languishing.  I rubbish
All my time and
Point at the clock, wondering
Where the hands went and
Why they are not turning.
The trumpets blow
A warning
And I heed them, here,
Seated and
Silent on the throne of
My own harming.
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