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Succession

A Poem

By Eve HillPublished 2 months ago 1 min read
Image created by Chat GPT

The Queen is dead.

(They say she fell)

.

One year of mourning,

Dues are paid.

.

So when the dawn next breaks,

Yellow canaries start their calling,

.

And a new Queen rises

Her anointed head.

Free Verselove poems

About the Creator

Eve Hill

Eve’s work is confessional, intimate, and unafraid of exposure. Anchored in real recollection, she writes about moments that unmake us. Through raw testimony, she unpicks the delirium and aftermath of loving, losing, and surviving yourself.

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Comments (2)

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  • River and Celia in Underland 2 months ago

    The divine rights of the rich who could solve poverty with a single decree receive accolades for patting the poor on the head and giving them a cookie. The cycle continues world over. Loved the cynicism and beauty of this piece 💜

  • Karan w. 2 months ago

    This is beautiful! Pic also ⭐✨⭐

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