Aren't We All a Version of Persephone?

Young, alluring, high-spirited,

Persephone was the life,

No, the apple of the eyes

Of everyone who surrounded her;

Everyone, except for Zeus,

Because he thought it was okay

To let Hades abduct her

Because Hades confessed

How much he "loved" her,

But in the underworld,

Persephone felt betrayed,

Hurt and scared, for she belonged

In the gardens with her mother, Demeter.

Powerful, proud, wealthy,

Or at least whatever "wealthy" meant

To my eight-year-old brain,

When I once accompanied my parents'

To the bungalow of one of their friends;

He showed us his magnificent

Collection of Renaissance paintings,

The car that he had recently purchased,

And his beloved pet -

A beautiful dove named "Kore";

Doves, as I thought, symbolized freedom,

But its grieving eyes inside the cage

Somehow indicated otherwise.

Exhausted, frustrated, distrait,

I wake in the morning,

Do my chores, sit down to work,

Take my food, fall asleep at night,

I wake up, do my chores, work,

Take my food, fall asleep at night,

Several months ago,

I found a random quiz online

Which confirmed that

My spirit animal is the fierce tiger,

Which is pathetic, and funny,

Because that's how it feels

Seeing a tiger running the rat race.

//NaPoWriMo, Day 17