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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Death · #1275033
A sonnet about a mixture of talent, pride, and betrayal on an opera stage.
The Prima Donna


I was born to a fortunate life
Cocooned in silk from my first shaking breath
Money and name can buy away strife
I know now, however, coin cannot bribe death

I was so very young when I first sang
They hailed me as an angel, a saint and a sage
Those tolling bells, they loudly rang
In honour of me, saviour of opera and stage

I kicked to the dirt those who displeased
I was the princess, they were the slave
Those who I kicked I’d now beg on my knees
But begging never would convince the knave

They hated, despised, desired my life
They cleverly switched the wooden blade with a knife.
© Copyright 2007 L.E. Garnier (legarnier at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1275033-The-Prima-Donna