Original Poems

24 Indulgences – XX

Divorce: it is a word so full of pain,
He will not say it, nor will speak her name;
To lose so much – it cuts against his grain,
And all he knows to use is spite, and blame —

But, Lord — sometimes within the honest night,
He sees her as he knew her at the first,
And though the image fades with coming light,
It’s always there. A hunger, or a thirst

Reminding him of what he won’t admit:
That though he knows that she is gone for good,
He really doesn’t blame her — not a bit —
For doing what she had to do, and could.

  But when outside, he’ll wear his righteous pride:
  That thing he traded for, with his own bride

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