My Mary Poem by Ima Ryma

Mary, Queen of Scots, I knew well,
A beautiful lady in love
With romance, so intrigue befell
Her, pulling her down from above.
England's Queen Elizabeth feared
That Mary was after her throne.
Fake charges of treason appeared.
Mary was imprisoned alone,
Except for her companion, me.
Sometime later, Mary was dead,
An execution meant to be.
The ax took off my Mary's head.

I stayed with Mary till the end.
Only a dog, but still her friend.