March 10, 2014

 

 

She will beat my brow

and find comfort in saying

the repeated lines

that on her mind weighing.

 

She will tell a tale

of injustice and hurt

that sticks in her head

like a cloud of dirt.

 

She will plead assurance

that she wasn’t to blame,

but I find her excuses

are far too lame.

 

The harm so deep

it severed a nerve,

and away from the subject

I try to swerve.

 

But she won’t be swayed

and the long lament

must be repeated verbatim

and is set in cement.

 

 

 

 

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