She supposed that other
Women felt the same when
Their husbands left them for
A younger dame; but that
Was no comfort now, had
No effect on how she
Felt and her sense of loss,
Her feeling of worth now
Depleted and all set
Aside like so much waste,
While he set out for new
Liberty and love, or
Lust as the case may be.
She guessed other women
Felt the pain, a feeling
Of emptiness, tipping
From being sane into
Some dark hole where her mind
Seemed so lost and hollow.
She supposed that other
Women thought like she, that
Love would eternally
Be shared; but he'd not cared
About all that, not cared
About the years they shared,
The happy times, the first
Kiss the first time making
Love in New York, the shy
Giggles, the whispered talk.
She supposed that other
Women felt like she did:
Dark, chilled, bruised and empty.
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