Poor Medusa.

She’s all alone.

She had a lover,

But he turned to stone.

​

Now, he’s a statue

And no good to her.

So, she walks away sadly

And leaves him for the birds.

​

She’s starting to feel lonely

And even slightly cursed.

She thinks, “what’s wrong with me?

Truly, I’m hurt.”

​

“I have the worst luck

Again, and again

Or maybe it’s on purpose

And I ruin what I can.”

 

“Maybe it’s my hair,

The snakes do bite,

Or that idiot Perseus

Always trying to fight.”

​

Then she remembers

Her responsibilities.

She still has a little one

And smiles nervously.

​

But, she can’t help but wonder

What could have been

If this fateful romance

Never began