she moved into a perfect place,
after the golden wedding,
with linen, and a table set,
and perfect floral bedding
but perfect places are not so,
and life’s no fairy tale:
and now she feels responsible
for her life’s ‘epic fail’ —
but courtship was a giant sham.
just how was she to know
that he was not that man at all?
that it was all for show?
Lovely poem