Once There Was A Bitch Named Poetry

And Belle Was Her Name

I found myself lying in my own sadness - 

'twas sad, I was alone.

Then came, from afar, a princess

lifted my  solitude, she has shown.

"Broken this fragile thing now", I said;

out of nowhere, she flashed,

asked me how this pain was made,

how I was hurt, how I masked.

Truly, I can say:

The scars don't show,

wounds won't heal - 

and you can't always see

the pain someone feels.

She said:

"We both were left,

by the ones we love" - 

We shared the agony

we cried, we sobbed.

And Belle was her name,

that cute, daring princess, who

lifted my scorching pain,

made me happy and never be blue.