Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Other Woman

She doesn’t have his name,

Doesn’t need it

And doesn’t know if she loves him

Or hates him for this

She has things, possessions

Expensive and exquisite

Better than what his ‘better half’ has

He doesn’t posses her

He knows it too

It was always her way or the highway

He prefers it her way

Always in the dark

She speaks from the shadows

(When she does speak at all)

No one knocks on her door

No one calls in for a visit

There wouldn’t be any kitty parties for her

No homework to be helped with

And doesn’t know if she loves him

Or hates him for this

He goes to his ‘home’ almost every night

But makes sure she is kept well

She is… she is

And doesn’t know if she loves him

Or hates him for this.

2 comments:

test said...

a powerful account on those who are portrayed most often in a cliched and disgusting manner..

Anonymous said...

i think she's self-centred. she can do whatshe wants, get comforts, and have no strings attached.

nice poem