Poem Day 25/30: in which I ineptly attempt a ballad

That afternoon, two explosions burst

Lost limbs, severe burns and worse

Just trying to raise her daughter

Like a good mother ought-ta

Never thought it would end in blood

When she met him at the club

Just trying to raise her daughter

With the man who loved her

Folks can’t control who you meet

And fall for between the sheets

Just trying to raise her daughter

Just like they taught her

Abuse and battery of his near bride

Let slip a display of his violent side

Just trying to raise her daughter

Not let it all affect her

While she worked her fingers to the bone

He cared for their child at home

Just trying to raise her daughter

You really can’t fault her

Nothing seemed to be amiss

Wouldn’t call it wedded bliss

Just trying to raise her daughter

Never really knew he was a marauder

Nothing as far as she knows

Saw it all unfold on the TV news show

Just trying to raise her daughter

Deeply hurt by the slaughter

Never suspected a thing, when she saw it on TV

While working to support her family

Just trying to raise her daughter

Keep her away from all the horror

Their hearts deeply sickened

By the horror inflicted

Just trying to raise her daughter

Saddened for the mourners

She’s a young widow now

Shocked and full of sorrow

She’s just trying to raise her daughter

napo2013button1Today, let’s try another musical form — the ballad.[GROAN]  Traditionally, ballads were rhymed poems that told a story of some kind, and were often set to music. They were sometimes set in four-line verses, with an ABAB rhyme pattern, employing alternating 8 and 6 syllable, iambic lines. This 8/6 iambic pattern is sometimes referred to as ballad meter. The use of this type of pattern was not universal, however, and old ballads often involve different syllable counts, as well as refrains that break up the verses.

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