FLOTUS

She wears no seal, no oath she swears,
Yet walks where power climbs the stairs.
Not chosen by the ballot’s voice,
But burdened still with public choice.

The East Wing glows with softer light,
Where grace and grit prepare to fight.
She lifts the causes time forgets,
And plants her flag in quiet steps.

From classrooms taught to global stage,
She tempers fire, she turns the page.
A nation's heart, a nation's face—
She fills the silence, holds the space.

She comforts with a hand, not sword,
And speaks in tones not often heard.
A mother, mentor, voice for change—
Her reach both intimate and strange.

Yet history often blurs her name,
As if support should earn no fame.
But still she builds, and still she stands,
With vision shaped by unseen hands.

From Eleanor’s pen to Michelle’s stride,
From Jackie’s poise to Mamie’s pride—
Each woman left a thread behind,
A legacy the stars still bind.

So let us write, not just recall,
The power housed beyond that hall.
The First Lady: not just a role—
But mirror, anchor, living soul.