• I remember, way back when,
    For twenty minutes a day,
    Running and jumping and scraping my skin.

    It displeased my mother,
    When I returned home with torn stockings,
    Always in need of another.

    But it pleased me,
    Because I could fly and
    I was content to be free.

    You see, I was the best
    At what I did, even as a girl,
    Flying about in a dress.

    I was the queen of this game;
    No one could touch me.
    And I always put the boys to shame.

    How is it, they would wonder,
    That she bested all of us, and
    They would blush at their own blunder.

    The game was simple enough:
    Run and jump, flee and evade,
    Or Call out “I’m tired”—a bluff.

    But I had no need to ever cheat
    I could fly about the grounds all day,
    While the girls booed, and the boys cried in defeat.

    I was on top of the world,
    The best at this simple game,
    Despite me being a girl.

    Girls shouldn’t run like so
    I’d been often told,
    And all I would do is pout

    I did as I pleased
    ignored the voice that told me otherwise
    And when I won, I always teased.

    I was the queen of this game;
    No one could touch me.
    And I always put the boys to shame.