When

When you are a widow They look at you kinda strange, Initially sympathetic From any distance-range. They often don’t come back Unless you are real rich Their presumptions carry on; Assuming you're a witch. Funny how they make you feel, They once were warm and friendly, But now they think you need support Or a supplementary. Always seemed to click with them Though now a foreign language, Making you feel miserable And all and all just anguish. Some need to know more and more; Extracting information You’re honest, they’re astonished With ghastly devastation. Vulnerable and muddled From heart break tragedy, They make you feel so awkward With incapacity. When you are a widow They look at you kinda strange, Tell them you’re a widow and Watch how they all change… Or Maybe keep the ring on, For a year or five or ten… Never thought when vows were made- I'd be thinking ‘when’...