Mother Gothel: A product of her society

Mother has always told me the only reason I would ever be loved is for my youthful looks

Father left her – left us because she no longer had her looks

I would only be the envied of all girls if I kept up my appearance

So I held on to my looks with perseverance


While buried- feelings of her bitter disappointment did not allude me

She saw the sign of fleeting youth looks, you see

She pushed me, pushed me to only believe in never ending beauty

Nothing else but looks and charms makes up a young lady, as it was our duty


I had nothing else, like father left her, he left me too

Moved on they said, to something more young and new

Bitter I grew as her prophecies came true

A miracle was needed- a redo


Shaky and wrinkled, my long-awaited miracle came

A bright drop of gold on the petals-nothing would ever be the same

With a soft lyrical voice and soft strokes, the physical years recede

With beauty and youth, hundred years of misdeed


A hunt for my miracle for the sick queen with child

Miracle gone, and drastic measures will be taken making me wild

Wild with a plan, a plan to take, a plan to sin

Dead in the night I take the child because I would not let her win 

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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