My Imagination,
Was it my imagination I saw my wife in the pub last night
kissing a stranger a man with great height.
Was it my imagination they left by the back door
after smooching passionately on the wooden dance floor.
Was it my imagination you laughed at me as though you did not care?
Leaving with this stranger I could do little but stare.
Was it my imagination I went home to bed?
After finding empty closets, with a feeling of dread.
Was it my imagination I took to the bottle and drank whiskey and beer?
Drinking myself into a stupor to give me some cheer.
Was it my imagination drinking was my downfall?
So much so I lost my job, and missed a vital call.
Is it my imagination there was a shadow on the porch?
I opened the door to my wife she was holding a torch.
Was it my imagination she admit she made a mistake?
Begging to come home to start again pleading with me for a juicy steak..
Is it my imagination she looked plump with child?
Should I take her back, or am I weak and very mild
Is it my imagination she was pregnant when she left?
Leaving me in torment, distraught, so bereft.
Is it my imagination or did she need cash?
Knowing my bank account she took off like a rash.
Am I right in my imagination I throw her out the door,
Sleeping with another, an act I deplore.
Is it my imagaination I'll find someone new?
A trusted partner I did pursue.
Is it my imagination she wept?
When our child was born she was born with a cleft.
No longer do I imagine my heart filled with joy.
My new wife is perfect to give me a son, giving birth to a boy.
Copyright © Linda Garfield | Year Posted 2026
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