Another One Down
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Another One Down
And another one bites the dust.
Marriage.
My friend, my neighbor, the lady next door,
Rampant miscalculations of being too nice,
two people that complain, endlessly.
She does not do enough.
I have not had “any” in weeks.
I work all the time.
What do I show for it?
When do I get my due?
These are the words,
That he would spew.
She did the dishes,
She worked two jobs,
She got the kids to school,
What a fool…
She made dinners,
and kept appointments,
made small talk with your mom,
who hates her.
Yet… She does (did) not do enough.
I wanted, need(ed) more.
I wanted my feet rubbed, twice each night.
I wanted someone to bring my dinner in the chair.
When my plate is empty, I want more…
I want her to fill it,
and every need,
that I can think of,
until,
I feel…
loved,
enough.
I am “first” not last, I am the husband.
I am the King of everything.
I sit alone in my new apartment.
“Why… is she mad at me?”
Red roses bleed...you just can not see it...
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2019
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