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By: Denishea Young

Fallen Queen

     I’m sitting here in my doomed throne wondering where did it all go wrong. Was it because of my ego did it grow too large and topple it all? Or was it my pride and my incapability to let it ride? Was it because of my vanity and his snide commits? Or maybe it was my anger that became a weapon of its own? Was it because of my desire, my passion for little death? Did I choose the wrong one; was it to be the cause of my debts? Was it the games I played with the lives of the poor, the illiterate ones? Was it my own greed that led me here? Was it my fault?

     Naw it was his fault! All his fault with his perfectly combed hair, full smile, night sky skin, big doe brown eyes and devious mind! It was his fault. All his fault none of mine. To hell with him and his new wife! To hell with ‘em all! How dare they take what’s rightfully mine. Nothing I did, nothing I said, nothing I saw, nothing I heard, nothing I could’ve, should’ve done, would’ve saved me. Why it was his fault. And now I sit on my doomed chair looking about all that he has made and wonder, wonder, wonder what the perfect punishment for those who brought me here can be wrought. One last curse before I am naught.

© Denishea Young
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