She wants a divorce
That is what she wants.
More than the polished tray
The tea cups and the toast
I bring with runny eggs.
Bedridden and lonely
She knows she cannot leave
But has already left.
So what am I to do
But polish the silver
And boil the eggs better?
I can let my tears flow
When the shower hits my face
It all goes down the same drain
My grief without a trace.
This is what love is
That is what she wants.
Two bit sunken shoulders
A chin that hangs too much
Just a sign I know her
Bedridden and lonely.
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Love your work.
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Thank you. I really enjoy reading yours as well.
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