My life was ended on the block,
For which I’m reconciled,
Because if that weren’t bad enough,
I’m now being vilified.

Those Gregorys, Weirs and Mantels,
For what I know not why,
Are fabricating sources,
That I fed old Cromwell lies.

I’m now the hated wife;
A simpleton and fool.
Either that or I was bullied,
And my husband George was cruel.

When he died I stayed a widow;
And wore black for all my life.
What makes them think I hated him;
That I was not a good and honest wife?

I died a violent, shameful death,
And came to accept my fate.
But I struggle to be reconciled,
With this post death hate.

So before you’re quick to judge me,
And vilify my name,
Look past those fiction writer’s,
As I don’t deserve that shame.

 

 

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