At the far end of the casket,
  his girlfriend hugged his wife

And told her she was sorry,
  that she had tried to steal her life

Their tears then ran in unison,
  for a man who loved them both

The years they shared now testament,
  to a choice he left unspoke

They never met before this day,
  and would never meet again

But each knew well the other,
and they almost felt like friends

The mistress left, the children wept,
  and the grandchildren played outside

As his wife looked down, saying: “Your hell has passed,
  sleep well my love—goodbye”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)