PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

[Darleen, February 16, 1958---February 25, 2007]

She wanted a husband, a baby, a home.

I wanted companionship---

the kind that can inspire a poem.

She cared nothing for that and let me slip.

I made myself incompatible.

The world took its inveterate toll.

Not quite to the seventh year, we parted.

I was not quite as brokenhearted

as certain others thought I should be.

She remarried---a man of strife,

this time, who preferred a doormat to a wife.

First flushes of false happiness soon gave way

to the shadows and shudders of oppresive doubt.

One dismal, sleeting February day,

he loaded his gun and took her life.

Then the craven bastard blew his own brains out. 

Starward

[*/+/^]

[jlc]