Long Lifehusband Poems

What Is Wrong With Me?

There is something wrong about me.
I know there is, it just has to be.

Why else would I be tortured so?
Why else would I be so low?

My children were ripped from arms,
For  fear I would do them some terrible harm.

Married not once, not twice, can we say three?
All  were not terribly nice men to me.

First husband was a mean drunk,
I left him soon after as we were sunk.

My second husband was a cheat,
And the third thought I was his to beat.

I know God really truly exists,
I am just far down on his list.

I have grown oh so weary
Of my life just being dreary.

I, for once, want to know I matter.
Am tired of being torn to tatter.

It just seems that I am always full of woe.
Will my troubles ever really go?

Will I ever be loved, really?
Will I be loved as I have loved so freely?