Below is the poem entitled Sour bed… which was written by poet
Anderson-Taylor. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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As we lay here in our bed, somewhat like two strangers force to share the last hotel room at
Mary K convention. At the morning table I try to hide behind my paper, trying as hard as I
can to avoid an even modest conversation.
As she stands at the stove and begins to slam cabinet doors in attempt raise some friction
between us. I swallow down my last sip of coffee and grabbed my briefcase in attempt to
avoid her sublime actions of frustrations. Doors slam as my tires peel off into the distance,
as I felt her hawk like stare penetrating my bumper as I pressed my foot even harder to the
pedal, as I attempted to lose her in the focus of my review mirror.
Finally arriving at work nearly an hour early, my cubical soon becomes my sanctuary away
from my marital aggravations at home. Once I began to settle into my desk, I soon release a
sigh of relaxation. With each task completed…I soon began watching the big clock on the
office wall as it just keeps on ticking. As I finally leave for the day and get into
my car and with each turn of my wheel which brings me closer to my home…As I start to
dread the very thought of having to turn that door knob.
This place use to be my sanctuary away from this cold world and life’s little disappointments.
Once inside, I drop my briefcase by the door…In a hurried rush to get up the upstairs before
she realizes I'm home. This is not how I believed a marriage should be, yet I participate in
these games of charade. Each of us too scared to end this game. So we both lie here in our
sour bed of shame.