Inside His Gloomy Garret
Inside his gloomy garret he thought of each old dream.
How miserably he’d failed with each crazy half-baked scheme.
Embittered he had grown from his every circumstance.
How he loathed his wife, whose only longing was romance!
She had loved him (rich or poor) and that had been no help.
She lay dead near him. In his ears echoed her last yelp.
His final thoughts of anyone were quite uncontrite.
Just one bullet left. A single gunshot sliced the night!
Oct. 28, 2020 for Tania Kitchin's 8 Lines Of Spooky Rhyme Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2020
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