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Humiliation
I thought at your fiftieth we would make up,
I saved every drop to buy you a new Ford.
Your Royce is still sweet, but it needs a backup—
Not a Lincoln, a Mustang I could afford.
But you threw the keys back at me in fury,
You let your friends mock me with horrid laughter.
On our disputes, you turned them to our jury—
They reveled, munching on our private matter.
You called me names you'd never used before them,
You left me unanchored in a wave of shame—
An abyss where you left my pleasance's scum,
Then heaped on me a full load of scorn and blame.
Is dating a prettier lady a sin?
Drown me in more shame—it quenches not the flame.
The more you dump me in your emotive bin,
The more she lifts me back into her love-frame.
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Contest: Pick-A-Title, Vol 52
Contest Judged: June 14th, 2025 4:11:00 PM
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Placement: Third
Copyright ©
Maclawrence Famuyiwa
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