Cruel Fickle Fate
Haa, this is pretty cringey. I must’ve been around fourteen when I wrote it? I even thought it was passable when I reread it a few years ago. Now it pains me… oh, so much. That’s proof of how much I’ve learned.
Enjoy.
I first noticed your gait, and your carriage, your state
Then the look in your eyes took me right by surprise.
I knew not fickle Fate had been lying in wait
Creeping silently nigh, telling love to arise
When I realized what happened, I was far too late
I was caught in the clutches of cruel fickle Fate
In hindsight, my life grew gradually towards you
But I saw it not, no, naught I saw ‘til ‘twas through.
Years of calluses cut in a single, swift blow
How did I let it happen? I simply don’t know
But I cherished your care, you’re still dearer than air
Though you’re now underground, now I drown without you.
I followed, thou led — O cruel fickle Fate!
Thou’d said we would wed — O God, now this hate!
Thou’d left me for dead — I wept, thou unmoved
I watched as thou bled — how dearly I’d loved!
You know I still love thee, Beloved, Unlovéd
I know you’re above me, Unlovéd, Beloved
You hurt me, I hate thee, Beloved, Unlovéd
I’ll never forgive thee, Unlovéd, Beloved
Why did you leave me, Beloved, Unlovéd
I had to revenge me, Unlovéd, Beloved
Murder isn’t easy, Beloved, Unlovéd
Why’d you make me hurt thee? Unlovéd, Beloved
I’m torn in between me — Beloved, Unlovéd
I love thee, I hate thee — Unlovéd, Beloved
Fresh Hell 
The cadence (just the cadence, not the content) of the first part brought Bill Peet instantly to mind. In “Smokey,” a caboose looking for adventure performs an act of heroism that lands him in a pond:
So he jumped off the track and plunged over a bank
With a bumpity, clunkity, clinkity clank!
Wheels over cab with a crunch and a crash
Then finally a great big ker-ploppity splash.
(now the best page – use a thick drawl when reading the part in quotes aloud, and imagine the cow and the horse and the pigs and the bird and the ducks and the frog looking at him like Hey, wrong place for a caboose):
Early next day about quarter to nine
A furious farmer called the North Central line.
“I’ve put up with your noisy trains year after year
A hootin’ and tootin’ and roarin’ past here,
But you’ll not make my duck pond a junky old dump
For broken-down engines,” complained the old grump.
“So get the thing out of here, pretty quick too,
Or I’ll call up the sheriff, that’s just what I’ll do.”
🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂
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Ah, that’s a pleasure to read. I have a lot of respect for people who can make simple rhymes
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Better than most even at fourteen
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Nicely done, young one! My husband dredged up an old one of mine the other day… I may just be inspired enough to post it!
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You should! It’s fun to see how people’s creative efforts change over time
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Lovely tripping rhythm throughout – very impressed you penned this at fourteen!
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