Princess Poor (plain version)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a plain version of the same poem I published earlier. The first one was meant to be in the shape of pregnant woman.

Submitted: August 05, 2017

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Submitted: August 05, 2017

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She was young

She was strong

She was a princess

who lived in excess

Full of life

Void of strife

 

She lived under a nobleman

Who lived under a king

And they partied life away

She gave birth to a boy

And a girl who lived in full swing

of life’s party every night and every day

 

Then royalty changed

To an army of men

Who made the rich poor

Though she felt strange

unharmed by any of them

life wasn’t as before

 

She grew

And so did the children

And with them ambition

She knew

she might not see any of them

after change in condition

 

First the nobleman departed

Then the son took flight

And the daughter married

She felt broken hearted

there was dark where was light

and the days just carried

 

Outward, she stayed chin up

She made good use of her legs

She let them run where they can

Not one day will she stop

Princesses don’t for affection beg

life is it what it is without any man

 

Then came grandchildren

After daughter’s divorce

And loneliness

She stayed with them

finally removed from remorse

And crossed distance

 

Then came illness

That dislodged legs’ use

Now just a body and mind

With it, stillness

A sign of obtuse

with no clue to find

 

Spent time with the son

In an island paradise

Without want or care

He gambled more than he won

volunteered virtue to vice

She was nowhere

 

 

The girl came back

Refused to carry weight

On her shoulder

saw her mother as an attack

without word or debate

put her in a room that’s smaller

 

She waited

For rescue to resume

But few would tax the task

She stated

she loved the vacuum

for things: she need not ask

 

She started

To begin the end

Slowly without any blame

masked broken heart

without a friend

a forgotten frame

 

She was bold

A life turned around

From princess to pauper

She will hold

herself the tallest tree from the ground

May the angels come for her


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