The Stepmother

Once upon a time there was a widow

Who fell in love with a widower.

The widower had a daughter

The same age as her two girls herself

Who was far prettier, brighter, and arrogant to boot.

 

To the woman’s dismay

Her new husband died.

And she was left as a widow again

She was left the house, the money,

And the widowers daughter, now bitter and sour.

 

The widower’s daughter was mean to the girls

And blamed them for her father’s death.

The widow tried to give her what she demanded

But it was never enough.

She knew she was the prettiest and wanted all the kingdom had to offer.

 

The widow, coming from a poor life herself,

Only wanted the best for her daughters.

But the widower’s daughter overshadowed them all.

Out of spite, out of anger, and entitlement

She wanted to make sure that they had nothing.

 

When the king announced his son was looking for a bride,

She knew it was the only chance

Of her daughters having the best life possible.

But the widower’s daughter had her eyes set.

She would marry the prince and leave the widow and her daughters with nothing.

 

It was a difficult choice.

Not one she was proud of.

But the widow decided to disguise the widower’s daughter as a servant.

Desperate people will do desperate things.

And she wanted her daughters to have a chance.

 

She forbade the widow’s daughter to go to the ball.

And bought the prettiest gowns for her girls.

But the widow’s daughter was clever.

She made a gown and used her beauty to get a ride

And she found her own way to the ball.

 

When the widow’s eyes spotted her

Her heart sank to the ground.

Immediately the prince saw her

And was swooned by her looks and charm.

He didn’t even look at the widow’s daughters.

 

As expected he married the widower’s daughter

And in glee she moved away.

Leaving nothing for the widow and her daughters

But rags and a shack

For she took away their only home too.

 

So the widow had nothing again

And she looked at her daughters and wept.

She only wanted a better life for them

But the widower’s daughter ruined it all

As she took away all that was left.

This poem is about: 
Our world
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