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He was nothing special anymore
because other kings had come calling
kings more brazen with flashing rainbow shirts

You are still ours, his grandmother said.
We love you the best, but the others were more dashing.
More flaming, more over the top.

He felt less than when he was round them.
He wondered if his relatives even noticed him any more
He did not wear the pink feather boas or the glitter

His nephew had told him he was a bit disappointed
Wanting him to be more outrageous and sassy.
Handing him high heeled shoes.

He was not a drag queen.
But could he be? Would it make him feel beloved?
He pondered this for a day.

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