by Keith D Allison

Life has fluttered by
mundane it's songs
the routine pounding of the drums
in search for some meaning
onward march for the dollar

Dreary now the ride home
hoping now, her day was good
so that she will not have to crack her whip
to bring me to my worthless knees

This flower of women
for whom my useless heart pounds
once her valued Prince
now no more than trash

Sweet the days
before the I do’s
before the kids
before I became her object of scoring

The routine will march when I get home
dinner TV and the kids
later she will fall
exhausted into bed

I try to draw her close
not to tonight, will whisper in the dark
I'll kiss her goodnight
wishing she'd had saved, just one breath for me


Posted on 08/04/2006
Copyright © 2022 Keith D Allison

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/04/06 at 02:06 AM

This is too painful - well written, but painful...

Posted by Anne Engelen on 08/04/06 at 05:22 AM

such sadness this conveys

Posted by Kyle Anne Kish on 08/07/06 at 12:08 AM

Ouch, this one hurt. Life is so dern FULL. Why can't we stop for more than a mere heartbeat and look at the person beside us and the same time they are looking at us? Good right. Good point. ~~Kyle Anne

Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 08/07/06 at 10:59 PM

Hi Keith. So melancholy. It comes right through, sad and real as it may be. Excellent poetics.

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