I once was the Queen of my realm.
My hand was so firm on the helm
of the Ship of State – but at this rate
just look at the state that I’m in!
It makes me squirm that I’m so infirm
now my body’s a traitor to me.
I used to move so passionately
but it seems I’ve lost my groove.
Can this be right? No more ardor
from a knight in shining armour?
When I reflect, last time I checked,
my body once ruled over men.
I had an effect – they stood erect
but now I detect, when they inspect,
I’ll never be nookied again.
They all reject and refrain.
Men don’t make a pass at my fat ass.
It’s so unfair when they don’t care
to sweep me off my feet.
I am so fat they couldn’t do that,
so I’m left here stuck in my seat.
Betrayed by my knees to a life of unease,
I sit and curse my fate – I can’t get out of my gate.
Each creeping disease as my arteries squeeze
is another thing to hate.
Too late, my jowly chin’s an aesthetic sin;
it’s wobbly and sprouting some hair
that really shouldn’t be there.
It causes me pain I’ll never regain
my slim and vivacious self.
I’ve turned into someone else.
Time is a knave, but I'll spurn my grave –
I'm a slave to what I crave.
Is all beyond hope on this slippery slope?
I'll forsake a rake for a slab of cake.
I should not be dismayed to feel so betrayed.
T'is the price I must pay; I did callous betray
my husband the King with many a sexy fling.
He gave me a ring,
but he was no good in bed
so I lopped off his head.
Now all alone I sit on the throne.
My heart is still hot – but I am not.
Please turn the heaters on;
it’s cold now spring has gone.
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a poem in any form or style with Betrayal as the central theme. |
Author Notes
Author's note:
Only approximately five percent of this poem is autobiographical.
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