I was robbed! She said
Every brain in my head!
They came in the night
Stole my gray matter bright
I had nothing to add
as she is quite mad
a woman big and bad
who married my dad
I died when my mom died, too young to know,
my dear nanny's sweet love sustained me then
For three short years, she was my dearest friend
She was an angel, helping me to grow
One day, she left and then I died again.
I was just five wondering what I'd done
I gained, unloving stepmom with a son
and I felt all life could do was just rain!
I did life over, but this time I sailed
I saw an opening and took a chance
Today, I die bits at each friend's demise
moments time stole, become faded and paled
I know I'll see friends, if only a glance.
I'll join their dance among clouds in the skies.
April 8, 2023
for 'I Died poetry contest'
by Craig Cornish
My evil stepmother and I became lovers and we killed my dad.
We did it so that we could get all of the money that he had.
We were greedy and we made sure that Dad would Rest in Peace.
But we made a fundamental mistake, we underestimated the police.
I pushed Dad off the roof and tried to make it look like he accidentally fell.
But the police didn't buy it and now my stepmother and I are rotting in jail.
The cops figured out that my stepmother and I were lovers.
They used their ingenuity to make us turn on one another.
Now as I sit in my cell, I feel pretty bad.
I feel like a piece of trash for killing Dad.
Dad had over a hundred million dollars but in the end, it did me no good.
If I could travel back in time to stop myself from killing my father, I would.
A combined family.
A tricky situation.
One I have managed to avoid and gladly
I have no idea how they do it.
Each thinking the other one’s children
are spoiled.
Keeping their mouths shut
or worse, taking over too soon.
A tricky situation.
One I have gladly avoided
The eagle landed and proudly placed a feather.
Into the cool, silent lunar sand.
Man hasn't been back in a long time.
It's a difficult and expensive journey.
People become bored with repetition.
Funding dips- starships explode.
Governments get sidetracked by oil and war.
Mars is our new mistress.
An icy redhead, skulls tattooed on her chest.
We want to tempt gravity again.
Plant rows of corn and humanity
Swirl our toes in the cold red sand.
But Mars is nothing but a stepmother.
Uninviting, with a starry cold face.
She'll never provide warmth or much of anything.
But what about Mother Earth?
Our beautiful blue-eyed mother
Garnished with evergreen and water.
Miracles of life around every bend.
Providing everything for her selfish
pigheaded, war children.
Forever the faithful guardian.
What about Mother Earth!
I am a women that loves with all of her heart,
although not the true mother they have been mine from the start.
I look in their eyes and do not see me,
but when I look deeper in thier hearts a part me does peek.
I love them with every part of my being and no matter whos blood they stream they are mine by feeling.
Two beautiful lives that I have helped to mold into amazing children with souls so bold.
They only know they are loved by me a women, a friend thier stepmommy, why should a title mean more then love especially when its a child thats recieving this love.
They are mine now and forever in time and nothing will change this feeling of mine.
I hope that each day my girls know what they have given me the gift of unconditional love and parentry.
Stepmother I maybe but after the prefix truly describes me.
She was there for me when I came of age,
but when, for a girl of unlocked doors and
a missing father. in flight down the stairs,
an intruder pursuing, no dagger in the chamber
of non-connubial rights. "Bad dream," she said,
when summoned home from a tavern tryst
to calm her child in torn pajamas, unsafe ever after
in any man's arms. Yet, she was there for me
with the sanitary belt, its necessary napkin,
my gentle guide into the world of women,
when the blood-flower broke its bright red stain
on virginal sheets, auguring deflowering.
Her pretty clothes?--borrowed, as if
a mock stepmother in the mirror on the wall
restored my fall from the favor of our king.
Lucia, (not "di Lammermoor"), she did not stab
the bridegroom, or go mad. Blonde to my darkling
Carmen, queen to an unseated princess,
whose sleep went forty years, the prince blind-
sided, the slipper shattered, the horses
harnessed, the child become a woman,
asleep, asleep, in her glass coffin.
You Entered My Life
So Many Years Ago.
Another Woman Was Found
In My Father’s Heart.
Many Struggles Were Ahead
So Scared Was I, Uncertain Were you.
The Greatest Friend
I Never Knew I Needed.
The Strength You Possess,
That You Willingly Shared.
Another Hole I Was Unaware
Is No Longer There!
The young stepmother
Nonstop, All day and all night
Her deafening concert
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