An old fairy tale poem I wrote

It’s been a long time since I’ve written poetry. In my late teens I got really into it and wrote several long poems, some of which I still like. My favourite, however, is the one I want to share today. I remember picturing this beautiful fairy-tale like princess in the woods, innocent and lovely but cursed with one disturbing feature… from there my imagination formed a story that became this poem.

I tried to find a photo to go with this, but they all looked a bit too creepy, so I’ll have to leave you to imagine something sweet and melancholic.I’d love to hear what you guys think of my amateur poetry. Also, have you ever found yourself inspired to write a slightly strange poem or story? Did you go ahead and finish it? Send me a link to it in the comments below, I’d love to check it out.

A Story About Melancholy

Once upon an unfortunate time,
Lived a father and daughter, in her prime.
In a forgotten forest, far and away,
Visited only by those that had gone astray.
Protective and loving, he always secured her,
Curious and naive, his rules she’d deter.

Her mother’s beauty, she mostly inherited,
But with eyes like the night she was afflicted.
Blackest black, dark like the coal,
Who would care for a defect so small?

Sheltered from the rest of mankind,
With eyes gently shaped and defined,
Sweet Melancholy Bass stayed unaware
But her father knew they’d harshly stare.
He wrote her songs to confirm her beauty,
She knew however, it was only his duty.

“A radiant ray from the gleaming sun,
Could not your beauty have outdone.
With auburn locks of flowing hair,
And softest skin, so delicate, so fair.
Precisely drawn lips, colour of blood,
Wide eyes, the forest could easily flood.”

One thoughtless day, at dawn she crept,
Unaware, her lonely father in his bed slept.
For hours she ran to find civilisation,
And finally came across a village celebration.
The music stopped and the folk stared,
Some laughed, some cried, all were scared.

Melancholy Bass fled back to the forest,
Back to an anxious father, but she was honest.
For weeks she cried into her father’s lap,
And soon, their forest, drowned out of the map.

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