Tonight, when we said goodnight
I meant goodbye.
Truth be told I was getting cold
Stood on the doorstep.
I wanted to be warming by the fire
Yet, you stood and  talked
I fidgeted and balked
at your droning voice
You wanted to discuss us further
there is no us, I murmured
yet on and on you droned
about our future, our perfect partnership.
Until in the end, I had to end the night
with ******.
Until we meet again at the gates of Hell
(Where you'll be there waiting to talk again)
Please just remember my temper,
It flared that cold night
and killed you with a
jolly shove.
You hit the path and dealt yourself a death blow
At least your death wasn't slow
(unlike the goodnight at my door)
Brevity is a necessity explicitly born out of hostility.
And your obituary was less than a
paragraph.