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I hid under the buffet table
so no one could see my face.
They told me I looked funny,
slapping me with a label
that kind words couldn't replace.
My little nose was runny.

And my girlish heart wasn't able
to stand dignified with grace -
like some rich lady with money.
I believed every fable
I'd read about our human race...
I believed in the Easter Bunny.
I was just an innocent child.

Somehow, I grew up stable...
always trying to keep pace,
balancing their stings with honey
and learning to disable
my emotions from a space
in my soul which was never sunny.

Now I own a mink sable,
but its beauty can't erase
youthful memories or gluttony
or the jeers of Aunt Mabel
or how I felt in that hiding place
with my head upon my knee.
Thank God for Oscar Wilde...