Friday, March 22, 2013

The Other Woman


 
 
Solemn looks amid the crowd

My sorrow begs to weep out loud

Conceal my love inside myself

A mere possession on a shelf
 
Closely guarded the ache I feel

Deeply conscious my heart won’t heal

Clandestine relations behind closed doors

have brought me to this pain I’m sure

It’s true you’re gone and I pretend

To be another mourning friend

With she, the core of this parade

I stand lost soul in her charade

 The grieving widow so poised and pleased

Her need for pity at last appeased

Accepts condolence from foe and friend

I’ve performed my part well to the end
 

© Susan Barton 2013

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