The Follower - Leggings ???

The Follower!

In the town there is a woman
who wants a sycaphant or two.
Lately she's become demanding
about being first in the queue.

She stands too close, and talks confidentially
in an embroidered sugared tone
about how much others offend and might embarriss,
all because I haven't corresponded with regulation.

She's arrogant, rich and spiteful,
short on fashion, sense or tact.
Her hair is set to perfection
and each curls swings to angle cut.

Her friends and family can be spotted from afar
they always appear with two people tight on
like flies to a paper - they are totally stuck.
All she wants is a slice of the apple.

And four women to simply attend.
She's gone before I can enlighten her
that for me this is mayhem, and madness.
I am simply not a klingon.  I'm free

and independant, my feet beat the street
with a happier thud.  She's so keen to beat me
she brought along an army of dirty kids
to sud in the showers.  She's family friendly.

A bliss for the Mother who's counting the pennies.
You have to laugh quietly and look far away,
It's all too  late for me - my Love's gone away.
Far beyond the day light, far beyond my call.
Or he would laugh with me, and walk with me tall.