Unconfined

As our golden years began, you and I made a pact. In youth we once soared high, but now our skin is cracked and our best years seem hijacked. When I was diagnosed with illness, you were the first person I called and I marveled at your stillness. You didn’t phone for weeks; I was appalled, being tossed away by one who’s fat and bald. Looking for a replacement after four years. the next day you were on dating sites, Is your tired old photo being met there by cheers? Pact-breaker, this just bites! I won’t be there when they give you last rites. Any woman you find won’t stay with you long; sarcastic cheaters stay with their kind. Perhaps another innocent will come along, but your whiskey and alcohol she’ll leave behind. Yours is the fate of one who by a pact won’t be confined. *Pact poem for Paula’s contest