La Visage de Femme

He used to sit by that window,
The grimness had gotten the best of him.
Awaiting on a new toy,
Curtains drawn, lights dim.
He was his father’s crippled son,
Adored by his bearer but loved by none.
They waited days and nights,
To find him a wife.
He spent his leisure with a long rope and a knife.
I happened to be new to the place,
Had known nobody but his Father’s face.
A delightful Sunday brunch is where we met,
I had been a dream to him,
Way more than he could get.
Wasn’t too long before I became a toy,
Pain he suffered in his early days, he replenished with joy.
Naïve as I was, didn’t pay attention to my Mother’s cries,
Now all my tears are dried for being kind and all my honor lies.