Written for Lamia's Daily Prompt Competition, for: A golden nightgown
And yes, this is a thing of some sort, hence the name. But the name is also metaphorical. Also, I'm not telling who the character is - I want to know what my readers think ;) Let me know below! 10 points if you're right.
It's also known as the poem that wouldn't end, because I tried to end it three times before it came to its natural conclusion.
A Thing
The apple in the iris of an eye,
The gleaming trophy on a shelf up high.
A legacy of Grecian myth
Rests on shoulders already laden with
-o0o-
Promises made by a doting mother
And a father's expectations of honour.
A reflection of a girl, a woman grown -
The details fade and hollow when seen up close.
-o0o-
She wears a golden nightgown in her dreams,
Lackadaisically looking on the gleam
Of sunlight on the water's skin
When she wakes, all she sees is him.
-o0o-
Her love, her hate
Her pride and shame,
Her bedfellow and one true mate,
For which she knows not whom to blame.
-o0o-
Her darling son is now her only joy;
She rests her life on the shoulders of a boy.
Half his father's son, he wears his pride:
While the other half begins to question lies.
-o0o-
She has always been another thing:
A golden nightgown dream hidden from sin:
A trophy remembers the sacrifice of the win.