The tramp is a lady

​

This is my seat, in my street. I'm the queen of this city.
Only you are unaware.

I don't need their kindness, I don't need their money or pity.
Just ignore me, please don't stare.

 

I wish I could be oblivious but out of sight is not out of mind.
I choose to distance myself, to be different from their kind.

 

It is hard to be a hermit, miles from the beaten track.
Society refuses to permit, for their guilt they want you back.

 

They may mean well or just want their conscience eased.
Or be disgusted, indifferent, even one who punched or teased.

 

To me they're all inseparable; one big family is what they are.
Leaving me as an orphan, a different brush provided my tar.

 

They're concerned the door is now closed to their world for me
Unaware Ive locked it from the inside and thrown away the key.

 

Myself and society, we disagreed on many subjects.
Whereas I have now forgiven her, it seems she still objects.

 

Over time the desire for love I replaced by peace instead.
My heart is safer, protected by the universe inside my head.

 

Never to be hurt again, like when I left their world for my own.
Now remember, you're on my street, so kneel before my throne