One Thought This The Best To Do

Everyday they would return home,
To open their doors.
With ever conceivable complaint,
They had invited with them to come in.

And everyday an argument,
Over what happened would ensue.
Leading closer to a separation.
Since one thought this the best to do.

And one day one entered,
To find it quiet inside.
With all space within,
Cleared.

And at night one would hold a pillow tight,
Wishing for a familiar snoring missed...
Would again be heard,
To begin.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!