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This one robs me intentionally, repeatedly.
This one laughs, and revels in her treachery.
This one robs her own children, and steals from
their fathers, and does not even blush.
She is beautiful, and that can't be denied,
but on the inside she's ugly and insecure.
She feeds on other people like a parasite
turning them inside-out.
She stole my husband while I held his infant
and wondered how I'd feed her.
She sat in my house behind brand new locks,
while I wondered how to collect the remainder
of what was mine,
without disturbing her while she
pushed my marriage to its conclusion.
She could be stopped, but won't be,
She could be silenced, but wasn't.
She will walk away with this man too,
and I will bow stubbornly in defeat,
and wonder why the man let it happen, again.
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Love is Still Young
