rose pink paper

she sat hunched upon the window seat
concealed by a curtain
in her hand a sheet of paper
rose pink, her favourite colour
he knew it was the shade she loved best
yet he still chose it to write on
such words
angry hateful words
words she did not know him capable of

it was over he had written
he had found someone new
someone younger and
more interesting, or so he said
a woman who knew how to please him
not one who left him cold
who no longer aroused him
but turned her back to him
in their marital bed

it was clear to her now
that he had never loved her at all
it was pity that had kept him there
pity and her father's wealth
nothing more

so hidden by the curtain
hunched up on her seat
put the pistol to her forehead
said a silent prayer.
 


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kiwigirl
Poetry
Free Verse
writing kiwigirl
The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart
--Helen Keller
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