by Natalie Swanson
the people all rise to applaud,
call my name; damsel of demure.
i think i might just be a fraud.
humble goddess, an act from god;
half my mind suggested de jure.
the people all rise to applaud.
my proper term – an arthropod,
silk shell – elixir of allure.
i think i might just be a fraud.
obscure the mental firing squad!
the last grand tour; you can`t endure.
the people all rise to applaud
and now i`m trapped oh god! i`m flawed,
they realize my brain is impure.
i think i might just be a fraud.
“meds falter your manic façade,”
a thoughtful therapist assures.
the people all rise to applaud;
i think i might just be a fraud.