The Countess

The Countess

Once, a long time ago,
Lived an old Countess
And in her large old abode
She was filled with discontent-ness

Such a spoiled girl was she
And it stuck with her all her years
That no one could bear to see
Her taunts, demands and leers.

Only the kind old Count
Who selflessly did care
for her old frown and scowl
but no more is he there

Some say his early parting
Was due to her ghastly ways
Others claim it was his darting
About, in attempt to earn her praise

Reason, however, is useless
since he has already past along
And the old, ‘mourning’, Countess
Hardly noticed he was gone

Still, despite age, she lingered
In her old mansion on the hill
Wrapping old, spoiled fingers
Around her late husband’s will

All the Servants, and the maids
Marveled at her diligent perseverance;
whereas ones life usually fades
She went on forever, in a sense

Or would have, quite possibly,
Had not her spoiled attitude
Persuaded one man into culpability
And by his hands, she was removed

So remember this important lesson
Never bare poor countenance
Lest you’re fine fortune should lessen
Just like the old spoiled Countess.