She sits alone in darkened rooms
No longer the sound of his footsteps near
Where once her heart would skip a beat
She sits in hatred and sheds no tear.
How fine and charming he’d seemed back then
How bright their future mapped out in joy
How quickly she’d learnt of his violence
How soon she’d become his toy.
A promise of better had long ago seemed
Better by far than the life she’d recall
Yet after the night of the day that they’d wed
Promises were broken, it was no fun at all.
And now here she sits in these cold darkened rooms
She quietly sits as she ponders her life
For one day he hurt her, he just went too far
And she stole his last breath with her knife.
Time passed, and our tale is repeated
Again and again, and yet again
And each time the ending is exactly the same
She’d always just leave the remains.
There’s a strong smell of death and decay in the air
The body was just left on the floor
The stench is the same as in the other three rooms
Where she stabbed and then just locked the door.
I visited the old town via an advert
From a woman wanting to be a new wife
But the local folk warned that I’d be number ten
So I fled…I still value my life.
©Joe Wilson – Married life – but not as you know it…2016
This is just a bit of fun…of course. 😉
Of course!