Was This Your Intention?
She said she didn’t mean to harm,
Again, again whispered as I lay
Cold, unmoving in her arms.
Yet before she said shed meant to.
Bratty child, not worth concern.
Never did she hesitate
To exact her anger, rage and spite;
To batter rave and mock,
And leave me bruised, belittled.
Yet as she lay me in that boat,
And cradled my body close and tight,
She seemed to show regret.
I don’t think I will ever know
Why, to her, it’s fine to wish me dead,
To swear it each day,
And yet when thrashing brings results
Her crippled heart beats guilty tunes,
And murder seems the only crime.
From where I am I cannot speak,
But if she came to my watery grave, I’d ask:
Did you really mean no harm?
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