Short Wifeanger Poems

The Arguement

We drive tainted words
into each other's hearts,
as swords thrust to wound
in anger and frustration.
Disillusioned with life,
she blames me,
I retaliate with the truth,
and her anger is spurred
by the fact
she knows I am right,
though she'll never admit it.
So we remain at a stand still
until morning,
when we rise,
and she acts as if nothing's happened,
leaving me alone
to slink off,
and lick my wounds,
knowing I'll never
be heard.