Scarred but Unbroken

There once was a woman, so haughty and vain,

A wicked witch who brought only pain.

She claimed to be perfect, admired by all,

Yet her partner felt trapped, unheard in her thrall.

At night, he pleaded for love and care,

But she gave him nothing—it wasn’t there.

She cherished her image, her fortune, her pride,

While he longed for warmth she never supplied.

Then came a woman, so fearless, so free,

With a heart full of dreams and deep empathy.

She loved this man, and he loved her too,

A bond kept secret, but steadfast and true.

She called to the stars with words full of grace,

Believing in love’s gentle embrace.

But fate had a twist, cruel and unkind—

The wicked witch sought and plotted behind.

She found the private words, she read them with glee,

And paraded her soul naked for the whole room to see.

She raged and she seethed, her pride torn apart,

But she blamed the woman, not her own heart.

With venom and spite, she set up the stage,

Mocking and laughing, consumed by her rage.

The whispers, the giggles—they cut the woman like a blade,

Not one helping hand, she still stood strong, though shaken and frayed.

Alone in her room, she curled on the floor,

Her body in tremors, her spirit so sore.

Her cries filled the air, yet none came to aid,

Until kindness appeared, a warm hand was laid.

They told her to leave, to never look back,

But love held her firm on a treacherous track.

She stayed through the pain, through the berating and absuse,

To prove that their love was true without a doubt 

The wicked witch, with greed in her veins,

Knew nothing of love, only power and chains.

She hoarded his time, but never his soul,

For love needs more than control.

She starved him of kindness, demanded his all,

But he found his peace where he felt tall.

This drove her mad, igniting her rage,

So she struck once more, like a beast in a cage.

The woman held strong, though inside she’d break,

Crying for hours where no one could wake.

Prayers on her lips, but answers were none,

Yet through all her misery, she welcomed the sun.

She vowed to rise, to carry on,

To turn her pain into a song.

She forgave, she healed, though scars remained,

And hoped one day, justice would reign.

For the witch who had schemed, who tore them apart,

Had lost it all—his love, his heart.

She thought she’d won, but in truth, she’d see,

She was left with nothing, a love that will always be.