I am a Queen.
I am the daughter of a King.
Does it matter that I am no longer in my youth?
Does it matter that after a long day’s journey I soak my feet?
Does it matter that I now sometimes use creams and Ibuprofen for pains?
Does it make me less of a Queen because I have wrinkles at the corners of my eyes?
Couldn’t that be because I too often smile rather than frown?
Does it matter that when I walk my thighs briefly meet and touch?
Does it matter that the muscles in my arms are upside down and wobble?
I am still a Queen.
Even as I age and my body may become a little frail.
My inner strength, beauty and youthfulness still remain intact.
When I speak, I speak with authority that demands respect.
When I walk, it is all my own and I still make heads turn.
You don’t have to see my crown to know that I am a Queen.
I don’t have to wear expensive jewels on my body because unlike their price tag, it is I who is really priceless.
Whether dressed up or even dressed down, I am a Queen.
You ask why?
It’s because I am the daughter of The King.