Price of Being Beautiful - a poem by Kezia P

 

Price of Being Beautiful

Some sides of stories don’t get told,

Truths rotting in the dark,

The ‘villains’ in the tales of old,

Left stamped upon, a mark.

 

What they don’t tell you is awful,

Secrets around each door,

They wouldn’t be considered lawful,

But for promises she swore.

 

 Medusa didn’t want the snakes,

The burden that they brought,

But she was up against the stakes,

It was one hundred to naught.

 

For she was up against a god,

Who reigned over the sea,

She never gave him the nod,

He took it all, ignored her plea.

 

Throughout this she did nothing wrong,

But didn’t receive the same,

As he, the villain, all along,

Yet all she got was shame.

 

That and the burning taste of guilt -

Guilt she shouldn’t have had to feel,

Ambitions crushed from chaos he built,

Forced her to make the deal.

 

It was Athena who she ran to,

Eyes red hot with despair,

Promised change, living anew,

But serpents to her hair.

 

Now she sits with her hissing crown

Wary yet dutiful

Tears spill down her tired cheeks:

Price of being beautiful.

by Kezia P - Y9

This poem was inspired by the Greek myth of Medusa. The author was keen to show the other (lesser known) side to the story - that in fact Medusa was a victim, not a villain.