Three graces
Sat across from me
Asian were all three
Queen bee sat
Across my knee
Beautiful and shallow
To her right
Flawless face
Well done and blank
To my right
Sat one plain as Jane
Silent was she
But pretty all the same
Black bags and gloves
Thrones and covers
To hands that had
Tales to tell
The first delicate
But blazing with
Fierce pink and black
The second long
And gracefully expressive
The last looked
The most human
Fleshy and mortal
I judged them all
As they sat before me
Those graces three
Shock and dismay
Befell my ears
To hear the queen bee
Say how cancer
Was eating her insides
Just as her attitudes
Ate her words
In vile and cancerous
Tones…
I pitied her
For she was
Beautiful on the outside
And had no idea
How her own thoughts
Were Poisoning her
To death…
So which Grace
Was more enviable?
The grace whom
Was pretty and wanted
To be like the queen?
The Grace who was
The beauty queen
About to die
Or the third grace
Of no outstanding mention
Simply pretty
Silent
But never with a smile
To grace her face?
