The Pink Queen is out of order and time

Her dignity and decorum not worth a dime

As she carps and quibbles with those above the ranking order

Never to consider the effects of political wrangling in the corridor

Of her perceived power and fake confidence ways

That undermine and integrity slays.

She’s out of power and out of sorts

All her ships have left the ports

And gone to warmer climes to see

The outcomes of one fixed so vehemently

To the settlement of home and family

Where she never can be wholly free

Left to eek out her meagre existence

And seek the road of least resistance.

The Pink Queen needs to find humble pie

And eat it before the trouble in her eye

Sees the bourgeoning of the White Queen’s power

Living life freely in the exalted, ivory tower.