Part III Immediately following
Oh, Husband, dear –
(I still cannot, will not,
call you mine
because I've got
my own identity –
nor shall you stake your claim
on me – I have my name
my own equality.)
Have you forgot your sacred vow
to love (alas, too far abstract a term)
beyond the sex you often crave;
to honor (not just leave your sperm)
with respect,
a way one should behave,
and cherish someone more than you.
Alas, what did you mean by your I DO!
We walked the aisle two as one
and bound with rings when we were done
so many years ago.
I lay me down upon demand
to serve your pleasures hand in hand
when oft I needed time to rest
three children having left the nest
but you stood staunchly strong and tall
demanding that I take it all.
And I did – ad nauseam for you
and swallowed hard too many times
to fill me with your fantasies
you hid so well but not so long
until you said a name: the wrong one.
Then I knew when loving me
You really loved your fantasy.
Rather than condemn you, dear,
(I could not live without you, Sir,
my sicknesses, my desperate fear
of loneliness, lost years a blur)
rather than consign to doom,
I hide within my secret room.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 455 times
Written on 2007-02-26 at 16:42
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The Secret Room Part II
Oh, Husband, dear –
(I still cannot, will not,
call you mine
because I've got
my own identity –
nor shall you stake your claim
on me – I have my name
my own equality.)
Have you forgot your sacred vow
to love (alas, too far abstract a term)
beyond the sex you often crave;
to honor (not just leave your sperm)
with respect,
a way one should behave,
and cherish someone more than you.
Alas, what did you mean by your I DO!
We walked the aisle two as one
and bound with rings when we were done
so many years ago.
I lay me down upon demand
to serve your pleasures hand in hand
when oft I needed time to rest
three children having left the nest
but you stood staunchly strong and tall
demanding that I take it all.
And I did – ad nauseam for you
and swallowed hard too many times
to fill me with your fantasies
you hid so well but not so long
until you said a name: the wrong one.
Then I knew when loving me
You really loved your fantasy.
Rather than condemn you, dear,
(I could not live without you, Sir,
my sicknesses, my desperate fear
of loneliness, lost years a blur)
rather than consign to doom,
I hide within my secret room.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 455 times
Written on 2007-02-26 at 16:42
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
