Facing the Truth of Your Lies
Back in September of 2004 -
A couple of months after
My short stay in the hospital
For severe depression -
I tried to contact you to see
If you still missed me,
As you rudely told me
To leave you alone,
That you were married
And had moved, had your
Last name changed to
Your new husband's
And were expecting
A brand new child.
Two years later I learn
The truth through none
Other than that fake 'husband'
Of yours, who posted a message
In one of his hosting forums
Back in 2005 when he was 19
And you were 28.
And so I face the truth, that
You wanted me to face
So much - the truth that
You were always lying
To me and to others
About who you really are -
An insecure and confused
Woman with two children
Without a real father.
No, you were never married
To that geek, who's so good
With computers, who
Drives around fixing other
People's technical problems,
Putting 8-9 hours each day
And not going to school,
To support you and your
Two kids, who are not even
His in a biological or
Legal sense.
For you two were 'living in sin'
Together, as he puts it,
Being 'disowned' by the
Majority of his family
And his manipulative
Mother, who was using
Him to get back at his father.
Well, it looks like he traded
His mother for a new one,
Who's just as manipulative
And conniving.
And I wonder what you do
When he's not around?
Do you stay at home and
Play a fake 'good wife'?
Or do you explore new men
And new options?
Oh yes,
He calls you his fiancée now -
After two years of living together -
But knowing you, I wonder
If you really want to get
Married and miss a chance
That something better comes
Along?
Well, I wish you luck in
Your decision, but I
Just want to say that
I loved you even if I was
A fool to believe you.
March 30,2006
poem by Alexander Shaumyan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My Brother Bill
This is the sad true story about my brother Bill
who was four years older than me.
He was born and then tossed aside by his mother
who left him to his father’s parents to raise,
then promptly disappeared out of his life forever.
My grandparents brought him up
hoping his father would take care of him
when he returned from the war.
His father also my dad returned from the war
married with another son and didn’t want to know.
They gave him a nickname in private
so no one else would know.
In private, they always called him Dopey.
My sister and I were told
our grandparents had adopted him
and he was nothing to do with us.
When my dad’s parents died in 1958 and 59
plans were made to come back to England
where my mother’s parents were still alive
and leave Bill far behind.
Then as his mother had done eighteen years before
his father abandoned him as well.
For a while, he had to live on the streets
taking handout from where ever he could.
He was arrested for vagrancy and sent to jail.
Getting out he got himself a job and began to build a life.
He got married and started a family,
until one night he came home
and found his wife in bed with another man,
and a divorce followed and he was alone again.
Then after 25 years, his job vanished
and he had to find another.
One day in 2000, he got a telephone call
and did not know whether to believe it or not.
It was a call he never thought he would ever get,
a call from his younger brother - me.
As we talked on the phone, some truths came to pass
his brother and his sister did not know about him.
They were told he had been adopted
and were nothing to do with them.
However, I had found the truth,
which incensed my mother enough to disown me.
We met one another for the first time
after forty-two years in 2001 and again in 2002.
In 2003, this sad story ends,
in the March of that year
Bill succumbed to a heart attack.
His final words were a testament to his life.
No one loved me enough to care.
The sad truth is someone did
and that someone was me.
We never had enough time together,
circumstances kept us apart,
but he was my brother
and will remain in my heart.
2 November 2009
Authors Note:
The facts are as Bill told them to me. A sad refrain to a wonderful guy who was tainted by my parents as being bad and no good. If the truth were known he was probably better than the both of them. He was a guy who would give you the shirt of his back if you needed it. My brother Bill, may he now rest in peace.
DVH - 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Wasnt Man Enough
Darkchild oh yeah
Toni braxton oh
Ha ha uh huh
Yeah uh uh
Darkchild yeah
Who do you think I am
Dont you know that he was my man
But I chose to let him go
So why do you act like I still care about him
Looking at me like Im hurt
When Im the one who said I didnt want it to work
Dont you forget I had him first
Whatcha thinking
Stop blaming me
He wasnt man enough for me
If you dont know now heres your chance
Ive already had your man
Do you wonder just where hes been yeah
And Id be worried about him
Now its time you know the truth
I think hes just the man for you
What are you thinking
Do you know about us back then
Do you know I dumpedyour husband
Girlfriend
Im not thinking bout him
But you married him
Do you know I made him leave
Do you know he begged to stay with me
He wasnt man enough for me
Didnt he tell you the truth
If not then why dont you ask him
And maybe you could be more into him
Instead of worrying bout me
And hopefully you wont find
All of the reasons why his love didnt count
And why we couldnt work it out
Whatcha thinking
Stop blaming me
He wasnt man enough for me
If you dont know now heres your chance
Ive already had your man
Do you wonder just where hes been yeah
And Id be worried about him
Now its time you know the truth
I think hes just the man for you
What are you thinking
Do you know about us back then
Do you know I dumpedyour husband
Girlfriend
Im not thinking bout him
But you married him
Do you know I made him leave
Do you know he begged to stay with me
He wasnt man enough for me
What are you thinking
Do you know about us back then
Do you know I dumpedyour husband
Girlfriend
Im not thinking bout him
But you married him
Do you know I made him leave
Do you know he begged to stay with me
He wasnt man enough for me
So many reasons why our love is through
What makes you think hell be good to you
It makes no sense
cause he will never change
Girl you better recognize the game
What are you thinking
Do you know about us back then
Do you know I dumpedyour husband
Girlfriend
Im not thinking bout him
But you married him
Do you know I made him leave
Do you know he begged to stay with me
He wasnt man enough for me
song performed by by Toni Braxton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Real Life Tale Of An Ungrateful Daughter
an ungrateful poor daughter blames her father
her mother sad died thirty-two long years ago
her mother did not choose to suffer illness die
was not mother’s fault choice to daughter leave
daughter in bitterness hate life torments father
her father worked two three jobs her education to pay
her poor father said study succeed attend university
she wanted to spend money work in Texas chicken
she married a shiftless dreamer saying play party angles
her father helped raise their two children in his home
she appreciates nothing saved not never to buy her home
she appreciates not years her family lived with her father
she appreciates not her eldest daughter her father raised
this daughter her husband accept no responsibility blame
daughter says if mother were alive life would be different
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Story Of A Marriage Counselor
..he is a simple man
married to an ordinary woman
the man teaches science
the woman serves as legal clerk
25 years married without a child
so they adopted the baby place beside their door
they did not know where the baby came from
they say she is a gift from God
the girl for what genes she has
turned into a woman with hysteria like Ida Bauer
got pregnant
but cannot pinpoint who from among her three lovers is the father of her child
the simple couple now gets a grandchild
so glad
the new baby has not father to speak of
they go back to the cycle
the beginning about the pleasure that the baby once left beside the fence
gave them
unspeakable bliss
of course, this shall not be
a sad story
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Young To Be Married
(hicks)
She wakes up early every morning
She get up long before the sunshine
Greets the milkman whos still yawning
And reads the paper for a short time
Calls the kids get out of bed
They never hear a word she says
Husband stands to leave the table
She says I hope you have a good day
He thinks one day soon as Im able
Ill get a job where I get good pay.
They find it hard to make ends meet
But they dont mention it because they have each other
An love is free while theyre supposed to be ...
Too young to be married
Too young to be free
Too young to be married
But what could they do, they were going to have a baby
After the kids have had their breakfast
Now theyre off to get some schooling
She cleans the house and makes the beds
She starts to dreams but knows shes fooling
She swears one day shell stay in bed
But for now she knows shes got to keep on working
cos round and round inside her head
She hears the words her mother said ...
Chorus
Too young to be married
Too young to be free
Too young to be married
But what could they do?
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandma's Old Piano Was Sold
grandma's piano is old.
she died ten years ago
being the second wife of grandpa.
my mother is her second child
that she sent to piano school
but father found her and married
her when she was still 18.
and i was born as their fourth
child. Mother knows how to play
the moonlight sonata which father
loves to listen at night when
i learn how to smile and laugh.
One day Papa found another woman
whom he said made him new again
and he left Mama.
One day Mama died and Papa married
that woman.
One day i left home.
One day the piano was sold
One day the piano was taken to another
town so far away from us.
One day, all these things, the piano, Papa
and my step mother are forgotten.
But then the Moonlight Sonata comes again
One night
From another piano nearby.
The keys are no longer made
From elephant tusks like grandma's old piano.
Not the off white of ivory.
So white and smooth like a well brushed teeth
of a very young boy.
I like to hear it when he learns
how to gnash.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Married Man's A Fool
(Willie McTell)
Had a friend, Louie Brown, he was a deacon
Just as wise as he could be
Now I realized he could read the Good Book
Back from Revelations down to Genesis
You know last Sunday morning we was over to the church
My buddy wants to take him a stand
And he looks out upon that whole congregation
The Good Book in his hand
Now he cast his eye about, and then he looks over in the Amen Corner
All the sisters commenced to shout [What'd he say ?]
He said a married man's a fool to think that his wife love nobody else but him
She stick by you all your life the chances is mighty slim
Now you read the Good Book, chapter twenty-one:
Every married woman got to have a little fun
Read on over chapter twenty-two:
It's a sin to let that woman make a fool outta you
Now you read a little further, chapter twenty-three:
She two-time you, brother, like she double-crossed me
Read on back, over chapter ten:
She shimmy one time, you got the problem again
'Cause a married man's a fool to think that his wife
Loves nobody else but him, I mean, loves nobody else but him
Well, a married man's a fool to think that his wife
Loves nobody else but him
She stands by you all your life the chances is mighty and slim
Now you read on over twenty-fifth page:
Married womens, Lord, is hard to engage
Read kinda careful, chapter twenty-six:
Back door slamming you got to learn to get it fixed
Read on out, chapter twenty-eight:
Who's that back slidin' out through the back gate ?
I believe I'll close on chapter twenty-nine:
Woman get tired of the same man all the time
'Cause a married man's fool to think that his wife love nobody else but him
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broken Home
All alone
I can't seem to fight these feelings
I'm caught in the middle of this
And my wounds are not healing
I'm stuck in between my parents
I wish I had someone to talk to
Someone I could confide in
I just want to know the truth
I just want to know the truth
Want to know the truth
Broken home
All alone
I know my mother loves me
but does my father even care
If I'm sad or angry
you were never ever there
when I needed you
I hope you regret what you did
I think I know the truth
Your father did the same to you
I'm crying day and night now
whats wrong with me
I cannot fight now
I feel like a weak link
Push it back inside
It feels bad to be alone
Crying by yourself living in a broken home
How couldI tell it So all y'all could feel it
Depression strikes hard like my old earth
Would tell it
To her son she told me I'm the one
Pain bottled up about to blow like a gun
Stories that I tell are nonfiction
And you can take it back
Cause it's already done
song performed by by Papa Roach from Infest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Story(9) (Life Brightened By Many Husbands)
She is a 107-year-old woman.
4 years ago, she was married to her 22nd husband.
Now she feels so insecure
cos he might leave her for a new lover.
Now she is seeking her 23rd new man
though she is wrinkle-faced centenarian.
She holds the worlds' most married record
by tying and untying the marital knot.
Without a husband, she feels so forlorn
so seeking a new one never adjourned.
Sandra
BY BARRY MANILOW AND ENOCH ANDERSON
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She's a great little housewife
Though sometimes she talks like a fool
But she helps at the store in the holiday rush
And she picks up the kids after school
And she puts down the phone when her husband comes home
And she changes from mother to wife
'Til she feels the words hanging between them
And she hangs by her words to her life
She says I swear I love my husband, I love my kids
I wanted to be like my mother
But if I hadn't done it as soon as I did
Oh there might have been time to be me
For myself, for myself
There's so many things that she wishes
She don't even know what she's missin'
And that's how she knows that she missed
She's a sweetheart, except when she's moody
It's hard to get through to her then
Depressed for a while when the youngest was born
Oh but that happens now and again
She might take a drink with the housework
Or when Michael's kept late at the shop
A Martini or two before dinner
But she always knows when to stop
She says I swear I love my husband and I love my kids
You know I wanted to be like my mother
But if I hadn't done it as soon as I did
Oh there might have been time to be me
For myself, for myself
There's so many things that she wishes
She don't even know what she's missin'
And that's how she knows that she missed
Oh they used to hold hands at the movies
Now it's seldom if ever they go
Once you've paid for the sitter and parkin' the car
There's no money left for the show
She was doing the dishes
When a glass fell and broke on the tile
And she cut her wrist (quite by mistake)
It was real touch and go for a while
She says Oh God I love my husband and I love my kids
You know I wanted to be like my, my mother
But if I hadn't done it as soon as I did
Oh there might have been time to be me
For myself, for myself
There's so many things that she wishes
She don't even know what she's missin'
And that's how she knows that she missed
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Meera) The Marriage Talk
Meera reached the proper age,
That proposed her marriage.
Her mother was worried,
It was time, she be married.
But Meera was unconcerned,
Since she herself had married
Krishna, her dream husband.
So, she wasn’t at all worried.
They sent messengers
To other Rajput kings
With their royal message,
Proposing Meera’s marriage.
None came forward
To take her hand,
But the King of Mewar
Was willing to marry her.
Kumbha Rana was his name.
To marry her, he came.
Meera was quite upset,
And first didn’t accept.
“I can’t break our tradition
By accepting another one,
Already when I’m married
To Krishna, my husband.”
Her mother cried and said,
“My life I would have laid
With your father in the pyre,
You know, why I’m here.”
“Because of you I’m alive.
If today your father is alive,
He would’ve had it done
To our utmost satisfaction.”
“What’s not possible now,
After it you run how?
Of what’s possible,
Why can’t you now avail? ”
”Our Rajput tradition says
A grown up girl, who marries
Should serve her husband,
And die with her husband.”
Meera gave deaf ears.
She cried and shed tears.
They came to the conclusion
That Meera had gone sick then.
Doctors came to check
But they went back
Without giving any treatment,
Not knowing her ailment.
Meera’s eyes became red
As she cried and cried.
Her mother was upset
O’er her pitiable sight.
Till the last moment
Poor Meera did expect
Krishna would save her
But He disappointed her.
Here and there people walked.
About the marriage they talked.
Kumbha Rana arrived in the scene.
It was her marriage day one.
As a bride, Meera was decorated.
In Rajput style, she was dressed.
But Meera was in tears.
Her face showed fears.
Her mother said, “Meera, listen
It’s our prestige, not a fun,
Our two kingdoms, it’ll strengthen.
Rajput clan will glow and shine.”
“A mother is the first Goddess.
Next only your Krishna comes.
I’m your mother saying this.
Be bold, happy and wise.”
Meera replied, “Yes, mother
Now I obey your order
As your way is Krishna’s way.
Your word is His word this day.”
She spoke no more words.
She stepped on the dais
To hold the second hand
And accept her new husband.
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Letter To A Soldier
Letter To A Soldier
A soldier got a letter, from the one he loved the most,
he looked at her new picture and he began to boast,
about his lovely wife and their kids back home,
which made all his buddies, think about their own,
when he was all alone, with her letter in his hand,
he thought about the love they had, and began to understand,
the reasons he had for fighting, and the sacrifices he had to make,
so the freedom of his family, no one could ever take,
he kissed the letter as though it was his wife,
it would have to do him, through all his pain and strife,
he kept the letter with him, right next to his heart,
as if it would protect him, during the battles he knew would start,
though many men were wounded, and some of them had died,
he kept the letter with him, it gave him strength inside,
the letter told him, all he had to know,
that his family missed him, and they loved him so,
so all you married ladies, with a husband in Iraq,
send him a little something everyday, until he finally does come back,
tell him about the children and the little things they do,
tell him how much you love him, you know he misses you,
soon this war will be over, and the killing all will end,
there will be a smile upon your face, when you welcome home,
YOUR BEST FRIEND.
written by Harry Bryant
28 August 2008 ©
all rights reserved
poem by Harry Bryant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Married Mans A Fool
(willie mctell)
Had a friend, louie brown, he was a deacon
Just as wise as he could be
Now I realized he could read the good book
Back from revelations down to genesis
You know last sunday morning we was over to the church
My buddy wants to take him a stand
And he looks out upon that whole congregation
The good book in his hand
Now he cast his eye about, and then he looks over in the amen corner
All the sisters commenced to shout [whatd he say ? ]
He said a married mans a fool to think that his wife love nobody else but him
She stick by you all your life the chances is mighty slim
Now you read the good book, chapter twenty-one:
Every married woman got to have a little fun
Read on over chapter twenty-two:
Its a sin to let that woman make a fool outta you
Now you read a little further, chapter twenty-three:
She two-time you, brother, like she double-crossed me
Read on back, over chapter ten:
She shimmy one time, you got the problem again
cause a married mans a fool to think that his wife
Loves nobody else but him, I mean, loves nobody else but him
Well, a married mans a fool to think that his wife
Loves nobody else but him
She stands by you all your life the chances is mighty and slim
Now you read on over twenty-fifth page:
Married womens, lord, is hard to engage
Read kinda careful, chapter twenty-six:
Back door slamming you got to learn to get it fixed
Read on out, chapter twenty-eight:
Whos that back slidin out through the back gate ?
I believe Ill close on chapter twenty-nine:
Woman get tired of the same man all the time
cause a married mans fool to think that his wife love nobody else but him
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Married
My father married a nurse!
He, my father, married a teacher
He never married out of being forced
So, he chose to marry a leader
A maiden, an edifice of beauty!
His attempt wasn't thwarted
So, he tied the knot with a deity
And thereafter never parted
Even till tomorrow, he's still with his lady
My father married a cook!
Dishes served to his content, he never bothers
It is never a fluke!
My father married my mother
She is the plant, he is the water
poem by Alawoki Akeem Opeyemi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Forsaken
Holy Mother of God, Merciful Mary. Hear me! I am very weary. I have come
from a village miles away, all day I have been coming, and I ache for such
far roaming. I cannot walk as light as I used, and my thoughts grow confused.
I am heavier than I was. Mary Mother, you know the cause!
Beautiful Holy Lady, take my shame away from me! Let this fear
be only seeming, let it be that I am dreaming. For months I have hoped
it was so, now I am afraid I know. Lady, why should this be shame,
just because I haven't got his name. He loved me, yes, Lady, he did,
and he couldn't keep it hid. We meant to marry. Why did he die?
That day when they told me he had gone down in the avalanche, and could not
be found until the snow melted in Spring, I did nothing. I could not cry.
Why should he die? Why should he die and his child live? His little child
alive in me, for my comfort. No, Good God, for my misery! I cannot face
the shame, to be a mother, and not married, and the poor child to be reviled
for having no father. Merciful Mother, Holy Virgin, take away this sin I did.
Let the baby not be. Only take the stigma off of me!
I have told no one but you, Holy Mary. My mother would call me 'whore',
and spit upon me; the priest would have me repent, and have
the rest of my life spent in a convent. I am no whore, no bad woman,
he loved me, and we were to be married. I carried him always in my heart,
what did it matter if I gave him the least part of me too? You were a virgin,
Holy Mother, but you had a son, you know there are times when a woman
must give all. There is some call to give and hold back nothing.
I swear I obeyed God then, and this child who lives in me is the sign.
What am I saying? He is dead, my beautiful, strong man! I shall never
feel him caress me again. This is the only baby I shall have.
Oh, Holy Virgin, protect my baby! My little, helpless baby!
He will look like his father, and he will be as fast a runner and as good
a shot. Not that he shall be no scholar neither. He shall go to school
in winter, and learn to read and write, and my father will teach him to carve,
so that he can make the little horses, and cows, and chamois,
out of white wood. Oh, No! No! No! How can I think such things,
I am not good. My father will have nothing to do with my boy,
I shall be an outcast thing. Oh, Mother of our Lord God, be merciful,
take away my shame! Let my body be as it was before he came.
No little baby for me to keep underneath my heart for those long months.
To live for and to get comfort from. I cannot go home and tell my mother.
She is so hard and righteous. She never loved my father, and we were born
for duty, not for love. I cannot face it. Holy Mother, take my baby away!
Take away my little baby! I don't want it, I can't bear it!
And I shall have nothing, nothing! Just be known as a good girl.
Have other men want to marry me, whom I could not touch, after having known
my man. Known the length and breadth of his beautiful white body,
and the depth of his love, on the high Summer Alp, with the moon above,
and the pine-needles all shiny in the light of it. He is gone, my man,
I shall never hear him or feel him again, but I could not touch another.
I would rather lie under the snow with my own man in my arms!
So I shall live on and on. Just a good woman. With nothing to warm my heart
where he lay, and where he left his baby for me to care for. I shall not be
quite human, I think. Merely a stone-dead creature. They will respect me.
What do I care for respect! You didn't care for people's tongues
when you were carrying our Lord Jesus. God had my man give me my baby,
when He knew that He was going to take him away. His lips will comfort me,
his hands will soothe me. All day I will work at my lace-making,
and all night I will keep him warm by my side and pray the blessed Angels
to cover him with their wings. Dear Mother, what is it that sings?
I hear voices singing, and lovely silver trumpets through it all. They seem
just on the other side of the wall. Let me keep my baby, Holy Mother.
He is only a poor lace-maker's baby, with a stain upon him,
but give me strength to bring him up to be a man.
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father Spoke in Code
Father spoke in code
Mother understood.
She would cry
once he went to bed.
I never understood the code.
My sister didn't either.
As we got older, we quit
asking Mother what he said.
A feral cat claimed our yard.
It would leap the fence
when anyone appeared.
Except, of course, Father.
When he came out to walk
around the garden after supper,
the cat would sit straight up,
then rub against his leg
and look at him as if it understood
what others never could.
My sister used to say
the two of us were proof
Father and Mother
got together twice.
I told her I wasn't so certain.
I looked a lot like Mr. Brompton,
the next-door neighbor.
He used to buy us sugar cones
from the ice cream truck.
My sister, by the way, didn't look
like anyone in the family either,
but that was 40 years ago
when I last saw her.
I went away to college
and she got married.
We were never close after that.
Not even Christmas cards.
Forty years is a long time.
Now, we plan to get together
for a weekend this summer
before one of us dies.
I suggested we wait
till one of us is terminal.
What's the rush, I said.
But my wife told her
I was only kidding,
that we'll be coming
and not to make a fuss.
Burgers and hot dogs
will do just fine.
I know what Sis and I
will talk about that weekend,
the two people we'll always
have in common, no matter
how many years and miles
may lie between us.
Father and Mother have been
dead for decades now
but they're still alive in us.
I talk in code, my wife says,
and my sister cries a lot,
now that her husband's dead.
The one thing I want to know
is if my sister knows
what happened to the cat.
It knew the code,
may have had some answers.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It takes three to make a family
(The Mistress or mother)
My son was a gift,
But his father didn't think so,
He left me alone,
With his son I mind you,
I was just a girl,
And he a man,
He did not care,
He left me bowed eyes and broken,
A Lord was he and I Mistress was I,
We were in two different worlds,
Seperated by our familes,
But our son not like us,
A son forced to see his parents like this,
I can still do te best for him,
His father is a monster not a man,
I am scared for my son,
What of his life?
No, I must do my best for him,
If I don't I'll let both of us down,
Years have past and now my son is a man,
I'm dying slowly,
I don't want my son to worry,
I know that I'm on my deathbed,
And I'm as king forJesus.
(Lord or father)
I did not leave her,
She left me,
I couldn't find her,
I wanted my son,
She didn't give him,
Now she's gone and my son with me,
My son's mother was my late wife,
I wanted them both,
But she sought me to be a demon,
Lies upon lies,
I was persuaded from my mother,
My wife listened to our converesation,
Many years later my son is married,
Now I'm going to meet my wife,
Together in heaven,
We have all eternity,
Jesus please keep our son.
(Son)
I am a man who loves,
Mom and dad didn't know,
I am the birth of their future,
They died without knowing me,
I am their son,
But all their time was fighting,
Mentally and emotional,
I spent my childhood afraid of them,
On a nevering chase against time,
My family will teach and give me love,
Years, many, many, years later,
I am a great grandfather,
Now and finally I am on my deathbed,
And I'm happy,
A tear has fallen out my eye,
I am now ready to reunite with,
Both my mother and father,
Jesus thank you for bringing,
The family together at last.
poem by Qeeony Luv
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Home
At home
Wife was
Fighted every time...
With his husband...
One day husband
Run to girl friend too
Love married...?
The wife
Fighted for dog
And his children....
Husband happy
For newely married...!
Tommrow lot of fights
Thear enjoy...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suppose She Cannot Live By Trust
She married him for love alone he seemed a charming man
And she told her friends the World's greatest husband is my Stan
But love is blind or so they say which in her case is so true
And there is more far more to love than saying I love you.
He told her he loved her many times but words not hard to say
And after eight months of marriage he left her for some one new life often is that way
His little son who turned three in early February
He has not met and it would seem he has no desire to see.
With a married man she is having a clandestine affair
The husband of a friend of her's though with her one secret she will not share
That her husband with her is having his quiet bit on the side
By such secrets when they are leaked friendships have been destroyed.
What her ex husband has done to her to her friend she now do
Suppose she cannot live by trust if trust she never knew
Suppose she could find a single man to fulfil her sexual need
But she does not need one without ties for her that to love might lead.
And that to hurt again could lead by love she has been hurt before
And the burned child she dreads the fire she won't go back for more
She plays tennis with her lover's wife but to her she never say
Your husband he made love to me in my bedroom yesterday.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Divorcee
She's been through a messy divorce case and single now she will remain
And she feels she's had it with marriage and she'll never marry again
She tried her best to save her marriage at least she gave it her best try
And from her past mistakes she has learnt like they say 'once bitten twice shy'.
She had seven years of married life and five of those years for her hell
And years from now she will remember yes she will remember too well
The beatings she received from her drunken husband as their two young children looked on
And they like their mother feel happy since out of their lives he has gone.
She married for love and love only but her feelings of love quickly soured
And years from now she will remember how beneath his cruel blows she cowered
Her children now ten and eleven feel happier without their dad
He often beat them and their mother and by him they were treated bad.
A woman in her early thirties she has only turned thirty two
And she vows she'll never re-marry that one marriage enough to go through
Her ex husband now is re-married and her sympathies are with his wife
And she hopes that he will treat her kindly and that he's learnt from his mistakes in life.
Her son and daughter soon to be teenagers are all that she worry about
That 'life isn't meant to be easy' at such a young age they found out
She raise them as a single mother and she works hard for them every day
Since her ex husband doesn't pay alimony or help them out in any way.
She vows that she'll die a divorcee and that she'll never marry again
And the sad memories of her broken marriage through her life time with her will remain
For she took the abuse and beatings when she was a callous
man's wife
Still she doesn't feel bitter towards him she merely gets on with her life.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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