In your widow’s ‘weeds’,
I watch.
Searching your face
for a hint of the pain
that tears at my heart.
I see only a blank canvas.
‘Tis I, to whom he pledged his troth
so long ago, exchanged vows.
Uniting two as one, according
to the holy Word of God.
A union made in Heaven.
‘Til you! With youthful guile,
enticed from the bosom of family.
No thought or care
for the trail of hearts
left broken in your wake
Fragile as eggshell,
shattering into a thousand pieces upon the floor.
Did you ever feel a twinge of guilt?
Or hear a child’s anguished cry
that faded into the empty night.
Your shallow words filter my thoughts,
Bemoaning riches that might have been yours,
had you said, ‘yes!’
His wealth, the measure of your love.
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