Her dance a fluid easy grace Like resting in the palm of God She moves in silent circles, mine is sore to watch Almost comical at times Such movements unlike habits are not natural for me Myself and I are happy wearing our head the way it is She primps to her own reflection She to be a queen And I labeled decoy draw attention from her beauty For this she snubs and circles me in spite Pirouettes, lands like a feather on the calm of the lake Without a sound she takes flight again And again the chatter starts about her Lack of social grace as she mingles with the common breeds I am quite the jester, she more the prude With neck-high buttons fastened tight As if to ward off any sign of laughter I am many shades; she just black and white It's not her fault, we've made her what she is If she'd get the hint, she'd take off in a huff She'd always had a mind to leave I'm happy with my home here in the marsh