For Megara – a beautiful soul

Life is hard for everyone, even those born to wealth.

From birth her future was written

Held in the loving arms of her ‘Nanna’

Raised by the servants of her parents

Mother smiled but never held her hand

And she took her first steps

Arms outstretched to her ‘Nanna’

Mother and Father clapped politely

Why? Don’t they love me?

Lessons learned about station.

 

The rush for childhood flashes

All the first were played, recited

During the evening family meal

“What did you do today?”

“Darling that’s the salad fork.”

Cute comments are rewarded

Questions about sex were forbidden

Art of polite conversation learned

Taste of wine, a rewarding pleasure.

 

Mother was the purse, source of freedom

Father was a poet, a kept man

And her time was her own, inquisitive

Watching the parties from atop the stairs

Hidden, unless called to perform, the show

“Such a sweet child you have there.”

Always watching from some hidden spot

The dancing, the flirting, late night parties

Arts of society and social standing absorbed.

 

Father died as she began her teen years

Mother cried and something died in her

Alcohol became a crutch for hardship

New found knowledge and feelings turned

Feelings sought as replacement for love lost

Sex became a word for acceptance, joy

Released from the prison of guilt

Scenes of the past took new meaning

Lust born to fill space, regret and lose made.

 

Experimental taste flooded her dazed mind

Swimming deep, searching for knowledge

Friends sacrificed to the moment’s passions

Macabre laughter from her fevered brow

Moral bonds broken for the quest, her muse

Desire to fill the void left in her by his leaving

Her drive born from the loss of her father

In her mother’s image she could see

Fate reveals her future of bliss, her need.

 

College wasn’t about books rather hooks

Placed with care by the fisherman casting

Doctor, lawyer or engineer? ‘Catch of the day’

Throw back the boney ones and jaded beyond

Measure the worth, treasure or trash to throw out

Mother got sick distress from her early loses

“Hasn’t been to a party for years, poor thing.”

Broken heart is so unkind to the weak, stolen pleasure

Stealing youth, loosing joy then mental collapse.

 

Four year degree stretched to ten, fear of leaving

Trips home have become a labor unwelcome

Lawyers circle like vultures scenting the end

None can protect her in this insane storm, hide

Funds reduced to little from legal games played

Life takes on new meaning, living day to day

Sanity becomes the question for the courts

Help comes from outside places from compromise

Victory is final and sweet, inheritance won.

 

She exists, forged by fire, she stands erect and proud

Taking back what is her birthright, her freedom

Sanity returns for another dance, she accepts

The change is felt by all who knew her worth

Now, it’s her way or nothing, bow no more

Her trials have taught her the values of life

Her amour is still here, still smiling beside her

This artist’s love has been proven true and faithful

And she knows the peace and joys of her mother.