Annie Oakley and Annie the Orphan, All At the Same Time!

One moment, she's Annie Oakley,

and the next moment, she's Annie the orphan.

One moment, I'm wincing at her blaring pride,

the next moment, I'm feeling sorry for her arthritis.

How could I stand or sit, with any form of comfort,

without feeling emotional whiplash?

My eyelashes blink back the waves of chaos,

crashing in my eardrums.

My arms cross my chest,

barring my being, protectively.

I am the guard to my own dignity now.

Taking a respective silent bow,

in my head I applaud my boundaries.