The morning light broke sharp and cold,
Upon a silver tray,
The bride looked in the mirror’s lens
And watched her youth decay.
Her corset held a breathless gasp,
Her veil a silken sheet,
She stumbled through the gravel path
On unaccustomed feet.
The cousins whispered in the pews
With synchronized disdain,
While heavy layers of foundation
Masked her growing pain.
She did not smile for cameras flash,
Nor grace the crowded hall,
For in her quiet, desperate state
She wished to end it all.
