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A memorial for a living ghost

“As from this moment, you are dead to me!”
My ex-darlin’ dearest, cast another rock from his scree
Even unto the end, I cannot fault his passion, so free
Meting it out with the usual volcanic force that was he…
Only he did not expect that I would carve him out of my heart
Rigor mortised, he is now an extinct shadow that stands apart…

In the resounding silence of isolation, he is out of his comfort zone
and keeps nudging in various unsound ways to hear my tone
Lusting for a response, he provokes, but alas for him, I sing alone
for the mire of his descended hell has long ached my bones…
Oh, how he steeps in bitter darkness as I find my old lightness
Rains have swept aches away, and the air has new brightness…

And so as he parades his new car; his next holiday;
lurking and smirking, needing a reaction to slay,
I can only wonder at what makes a person this way
Vying for love whilst at the same time in hate’s sway…
If only his mama and papa had been a little more caring
Nursed his scars, but he was past the point of sharing…

Growing more miserly with each passing year
Grumbling more though more riches did appear
How he clings to his toys as if they’d disappear
Oh, but he forgets I rode his storms and wink at fear…
Solitude was always my forte; this, he never learned
Thus, I embark on lone adventures as the ghost still burns…


Copyright © Susan Woodrow