It's a story best forgotten
the words but a fairy tale
like fruit left till rotten
a love grown cold and stale.
His words once bore the Sun
lifted the heart and kissed a smile
those words that now no longer run
have changed to ones so vile.
Eager once to hold her
to share moments pleasures and ways
now sits before a big screen to see
Football games and plays.
That a man once could love so deeply
his passion last the night so long
how now they have gone completely
in a love that is dead and wrong.
Is fate so cruel to a woman's heart
to give true love as a second in life
leaving the rest empty and alone
---As a Dead man's Wife.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 12:32 PM UTC
It's a story best forgotten
the words but a fairy tale
like fruit left till rotten
a love grown cold and stale.
His words once bore the Sun
lifted the heart and kissed a smile
those words that now no longer run
have changed to ones so vile.
Eager once to hold her
to share moments pleasures and ways
now sits before a big screen to see
Football games and plays.
That a man once could love so deeply
his passion last the night so long
how now they have gone completely
in a love that is dead and wrong.
Is fate so cruel to a woman's heart
to give true love as a second in life
leaving the rest empty and alone
---As a Dead man's Wife.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Request permission to use this poem