and let me know

I have trouble, these days,
remembering all the times
that you made fun of me;
it's so much easier
to remember all the times
that you made love to me,
and how you held me off
on our first date:
"Not tonight, sweetie"
was all you said, as you
straightened your skirt
and adjusted your blouse;
I also remember
how magnificently
startled
I was, the morning that
you deserted me,
loading all the stuff
that you wanted
into that U-Haul truck
that was so poorly parked
in the driveway;
you stole five years
of my life,
and all that I had achieved,
and left me homeless,
alone, and bereft,
and even my so-called friends
could not save me;
my first wife drove me
from my zip code,
and you went one step further,
and drove me from my state;
what a cruel fate:
sent home to mom,
tail between my legs,
and then some;
and now, another curtain rises,
certain to close,
without many surprises,
and still, my mind
surrounds all the good times,
and I am mystified
at how life goes like that,
since I still feel like
I ought to hate you;
go figure,
and let me know.



October 3, 2010.

Copyright © 2010, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.