Quasimodo Or The Snow Queen [REV.]

I’ve no funds of my own - so if I buy something
like sandals to not go barefoot your fury knows
no bounds; you’re livid as shoes will be bought
in consultation after months of deliberation and
only at shops you approve

Bought T-shirts illegally, received gifts of floral
tops that are like sacks making me seem odd;
you say ‘wear only invisible colours like black
or grey, white attracts the eye, it doesn’t help
hide anything, grey’s the way’ - & just then I

Recall I’m ugly & stupid as well as penniless
but can’t complain, sold my soul for this; you
taking care of everything: home budget & its
management, groceries, kids, and university;
I respect your great skill & uniqueness, won’t

Interfere, & since it seems the required thing,
I’ll cede my credit card, living on your funding
which is enough; & realising how dwarf-like I
look, a trollishly limited intelligence and holy
Golems’ words in my head; Terry Pratchett

said it thus, can’t contemplate anything that
goes against ingrained text locked in there;
let me wait until anger abates, forget I’d the
temerity to consider you humble me in front
of the kids, you humiliate them in front of me

But it doesn’t matter, your munificence makes
heart bruises just irrelevant; let me watch TV,
the hat I bought triggering your ire will vanish
to the office and there’s nothing you can do
about it – it’s a paradise for me: I’ll become

Quasimodo or be the Snow Queen - oh, but
emotions are such stupid things! The Snow
Queen has no truck with ‘em while poor old
Quasimodo suffers them silently…