Moving On

Time went on and she hoped for reprieve,
Now was the time she had to believe.
She gathered momentum, all set to go
The strength that took he’d never know.
He thought she’d get right on track,
That she would come crawling back.
But things had changed for her and you,
Life’s too short, the years too few
To sacrifice ones happiness,
staying together under duress.
Don’t think to hurt or shame was meant,
Just a chance to live, without lament.
Some respite from the drudge of life,
Meant to be much more than a wife.
She craved to be cherished like no other,
Much more to her, than just our Mother.
Set apart from the rest, she has such talent,
She should use the gifts that she’s been sent.
She’d raised the family, the time was right,
Had grown tired of the fuss and fight.
She packed her bags, set off, departed,
Now for her, her life’s just started.
Could not hope that you’d understand,
A different life for her was planned.
The freedom for her to do as she pleased,
The burden of her thoughts had eased.

He never thought that they would part,
And would take with her, his heart.
She caught him somewhat by surprise,
Grew fed up living with the lies.
And on it, suddenly the light shone.
When he could see the love had gone.
Sometimes resentment would start when,
He’d think of her fondly now and then.
Although he felt she’d broken his trust,
Time marches on and forgive her he must.
Didn’t figure on such loneliness,
The effect on him of such distress.
Feeling as though a downward spiral,
Going through periods of denial.
But as years go by, I think it’s shown
That he can enjoy a life of his own.
Had never thought with emotions he’d toy,
But a new way of life he’d come to enjoy.
A place where he can enjoy the limelight,
Return to peace and quiet at night.
One where he has freedom to roam,
Do as he pleases, no one at home.

Looking Back, A struggle to write.

Looking back through some of my old papers, I often find things I’ve written in the past. Sometimes, I feel as though they should stay there.  But as time goes on, they give a better picture of who I am today and how I arrived here. I wrote this many years ago around 1995 I think.  I had written poetry before, some of it will appear here later, but I regularly struggled with writers block.  At the time I painted it onto a bottle after I had drunk the contents. I found the bottle a while ago and transferred it to paper. A picture will follow if I can find it again…

It seems I cannot write things
Till I’m down or even depressed
As when I try to do this
They make sense even less.
It seems I have to be hurting
Very deep down inside.
Unable to tell him things,
When so many times I’ve tried.
So when I try to write things down
My true feelings come out right.
Sometimes you know I wear a frown
And sit up alone at night
I sit here with pen and paper
Cramming words down on the page
It’s been like that for years now
And I thought it’s just my age
Other people will rant and rave
Or bottle things up for years
But how I feel is what I write
Mixed up with a few tears.