Wrote this during my Humanities class while we were on the subject of The Aenead, an epic poem by Vergil. Dido's story was particularly touching, so I wrote a poem from her point of view. Be nice, I haven't done this sort of thing since high school.
As a queen, I know no way to conquer him.
As a women, I may woo him with garlands.
As a widow, I hold back for fear of him.
As a sister, praise for him falls from my lips.
As a wife, my gift to him is my devotion.
He makes me his whore.
He abandons me.
He does not look back.
What can I but rage?
And then, condemn?
At last, dispair.
Sweet motherly Juno,
Who oversaw our union,
I implore you from my pyre,
Grace my with your mercy:
Cut my spirit from my body
So that I may fulfull my dire promise.
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A girl called me emo today. This kind of shit is why.
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