Golden Staircase Poem by Kirsten G. Munro

She lives for the diamonds on her wrist,
The same cut she used to kill her morals with.
Each nip and tuck to her face,
the original woman underneath is gone without a trace,
She doesn't even view her husband as human nowadays,
Just someone to have intercourse with and for monetary gain.

The destructive nature of greed is pertinent,
To succeed in being a liar is rather unfortunate.
Even her son, an innocent pawn in her game,
A way to always own her husband yet she can't recall the child's name.

She reaped her bed in which she sowed,
When the tide changes and her looks have faded,
She'll have nothing to show,
Just a bitter used to be who's now all alone.