Disclaimer: I do not own 39 Clues.

AN: Thanks to RabidNinjaKitty, Lapulta, Evanescence456, and RageRunsStill for reading over this poem. You guys are awesome!

You always tried to please her.

Everything in life was done-

So she would approve.

She was your world-

Your glamorous idol wearing Prada.

Nothing-

Nothing

Made your day

Better than an approving smile

From her.

The moment you took your first breath

You worshipped her.

Copying her every move

To be more like her.

You loved fashion

Because she was impeccable.

You acted ruthless

Because she scorned kindness.

You began the clue hunt

Because maybe

Maybe,

If you collected enough clues,

You would finally

Be worthy enough to be her daughter.

But no matter what you did

You would never

Live up to her sky-high expectations.

Every wrong turn she berated you.

And so you did the logical thing.

You tried even harder.

Paris.

Venice.

Korea.

Russia.

The world you would travel at her order.

And when you failed

All you could feel

Was immeasurable shame.

She followed after Russia

Becoming leader of the team.

It wasn't long until you found her cold side.

The cold-blooded killer hidden within.

Doubt finally began creeping in

In South Africa.

Before then

You had been a young puppy

Blindly following her owner.

Now, you opened your eyes.

You saw that her entire act of kindness

Had been just that.

An act.

Yet you still refused to believe.

Even committing sabotage,

You reassured yourself

That she wasn't truly evil.

That her normal kind self would soon return.

You continued to hope

Right up until she shot you.

When her finger pulled the trigger

Your entire world shattered

With a deafening crack.

Eventually you defeated her

And the wound in your foot healed

Leaving only a faint scar.

But your heart still bled.

So you sought comfort

From old memories.

When your brother found you

Curled up on your mother's vintage sweaters,

He didn't understand

It was your way of letting go

Of losing the final illusion

That she might have cared.

Then at the trial

Seeing her cold imposing figure,

A haughty queen-

Even in shackles-

Made you tremble.

You almost resubmitted to her rule

And being her shadow again

This time though,

The truth strengthened you.

Under her icy glare

You stood still.

When the gavel pounded down-

Sealing her fate-

You lost your identity

As Isabel Kabra's daughter

And became Natalie.