After The Vows
Category: Writing and Poetry
She loved him to death,
Though never sure why;
But he was handsome and strong,
One hell of a guy.
Her treatment was special,
What he thought she deserved;
Alone and silent,
While she cooked and she served.
And it was all she would know,
Without hopes of progression;
Apart from more beatings,
And verbal oppression.
But she loved him to death,
Still never sure why;
Wanting to leave him,
With no thoughts to try.
She'd just justify the bruises,
Her pain didn't matter;
Just because she chose love,
While he chose to batter.
"He just gets mad," she'd say,
"I still love him to death;"
"And he says he's so sorry,"
Then "every time" under her breath.
'Every time' was always,
The hand or the shout;
But with so much love for this man,
She had no way to get out.
And then, one day, the man she loved,
Brought her flowers, in a basket;
Not shouting at all, or even hitting ,
As he dropped them, on her casket.
And under the lid,
Still scarred, but no breath;
Lie the woman, who loved him,
Loved him to death.
