Taking a Sledgehammer to What's Already Broken

I stepped upon a stool at the crossroads
Of two aisles in the store and loudly spoke.
“Be it known to one and all that I'm
Unfit to be the lover of that woman there.”
I pointed down at Ariel, whose face soon
Grew a shade of red far brighter than
Her hair. “I'm married, and I'm old.
My heart is weak. I'm impecunious,
Depressed, and given to be overcome
By fits of futile rage. In short, I'm not
The one for such as her, as she is,
If not altogether warm, someone who's
Virtuous and steely-strong. She's told
Me not to come to her. She acts as if
I am not here, and, so, my fellows,
Be assured that I am not just not
Her lover. I'm unfit. She'd tell you so,”
Though, by then, she had slunk away,
And, later, when no one could hear,
She hissed, “I truly hate you now.”
“You do?,” I asked. “What does it
Matter? It's been almost two years
Since you even spoke to me.”

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2017-09-14 at 01:22

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Another fine work. :)