I’m ceded, I’ve stopped being theirs,
The name they dropped upon my face
With water, in the country church,
Is finished using now.
Here on out, call me Millicent—
I’ll wear lots of greens and yellows,
Host soirees, and eat meat on Lent.
Baptized before without the choice,
But this time consciously picking
An intriguing name,
And with it a new hair-do
And different buttons and brooches
To complete the change.
My second name, too quaint the first,
Shall grace salons with sparkling wit,
A charming, honored guest;
And this time, adequate, erect,
With will to choose or to reject,
I’ll be popular, with no regrets!
The more properly religious one.