Her gait is different
Devoid of gaiety
She walks ahead slowly
Gazing down with gravity
At the floor patterns below
Was it wrong
To stoop so low
In the ambition to attain
That exalted stage?
Oh that is the way
They treated her behold
Like a doormat
Of a bygone age
Where do you draw the line, she asks
Between ego and self esteem
For she has reached the nadir
Of the latter
And now looks up to see
The dust of their hubris
Covering her face
Her soul left behind
In that maddening race...
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