If people would remember me
I ask them to be kind
To recall I was a woman in a
Deadly kind of bind
Potions, tricks, and reading palms
Was something of a rage
And I decided early on
To take up center stage
When Montespan first came to me
With heartbreak on her face
I knew what she would ask of I
My poisons left no trace
And though I took her offered gold
The plan it fell apart
And she was left a mistress with
A broken, bleeding heart
I know not how they came to think
That all the fault was mine
That each black mass or satanist
Was part of my design
I was one of countless girls
Who tried to make it rich
Who tried to walk the line between
A midwife and a witch
In the end, the king believed
That I was someone cruel
He tossed me on the flaming pyre
His words, they caught like fuel
And all around the Paris streets
Poisoners did fall
To the prodding hands of men
Who thought we should be small
I wonder with a smidge more time
Might we have offed them all
And been a town of women freed
From men's daft wrath and gall
YOU ARE READING
Wicked Women
PoetryWicked Women is a collection of poems written from the eyes of history's most maligned and hated women. This collection explores what motivated these "evil" women to commit murders, robberies, and other infamous crimes and offers a glimpse beyond th...
