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You might perchance think: why this change of heart, 
But things do change. Not so is from change free, 
Give me one chance, one chance for a new start. 
I thought, he cannot think of life sans me, 
And hence this uncharacteristic plea: 
Time changes and I'd too— for my own sake. 
Look, my life's a golf ball perched ‘pon a tee, 
I agreed, not sure where would go this rake. 

The life when lurks on point of no return, 
Oft turns, prodded by head, much less by heart, 
Nor yet knows what it wants, nor cares to learn, 
And my life had become oh a pushcart—
   You get when frozen, snow sinks down lower, 
   Chilly frost's felt and stupor takes over. 
______________________________________________   
Sonnets | 02.11.2016, revised Sept 2022 | 
Poet’s note: Life often turns out a series of compromises, not just adjustments. Marriage is sometimes more so. The lady of this sonnet here is caught in one such marriage, a victim of infidelity and falsehoods. A time comes when she no more cares, or she is too tired to, and a stupor takes over.

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