The Misunderstanding

Some say that life is a mystery

That we have to pay our dues,

It’s written in every history

Marked out by a series of clues.

So it was when I saw her sally forth

With that lost refrain of us,

Older now, but a constant muse

As we caught the self-same bus.

 

I hadn’t seen her in twenty years,

Her temples were going grey,

She’d gained a little in weight, I thought,

Since she’d stormed on out that day.

She didn’t see me at first, I know.

Or she might have raised a fuss,

But I sat beside her, anyway

On the rearmost seat of the bus.

 

She huddled up in the corner when

She saw just who it was,

I couldn’t get her to speak at first

And I felt a sense of loss.

‘Fancy seeing you now, out here,’

I began, ‘it’s been a while.’

Could I detect the hint of a tear?

There was no sign of a smile.

 

‘It’s been forever,’ she said at last,

‘And I’ll thank you now to go,

I have no need of ghosts from the past

In the life I’ve come to know.’

I heard my voice, it broke in my throat

As I tried to suppress a sigh,

‘I have no wish to alarm you now,

But I thought to ask you, Why?’

 

‘Why did you leave that sunny day

In that terrible month of June,

You said you were going to make me pay

When I came back into the room.’

‘You know full well that I had to leave

When that woman knocked at the door,

That painted Jade, that Jezebel,

That blonde, unspeakable w***e!’

 

My jaw dropped open in bleak surprise,

I struggled with grim intent,

I couldn’t think for the life of me,

Or remember who she meant.

‘There was no woman, as I recall

Though you always thought there was,

Your paranoia was there on call…

Did you mean my region’s boss?’

 

The mist was beginning to clear away

From that mystery, lost in time,

‘My god, she called to discuss our costs,

Did you think that she was mine?’

She stared at me and her face went pale

As the truth came home to bite,

‘I sat and waited for months, when you

Didn’t come home that night!’

 

A tear now flowed down her pale white cheek

And she turned her face from me,

She stared on out of the window at

Some vagrant, passing tree.

‘I always loved you alone,’ I said,

But she’d never brooked delays,

We both got off at the same bus stop,

And went our separate ways.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[R Smith]

she was a hard one i guess, i've had some misunderstandings in my past and know just how this poem feels, its a horrible sensation when you have been misunderstood but for some reason the person concerned won't see the truth and just blindly believe you were guilty of whatever terrible but imaginary crime you had never committed, great poem David bringing back old memories for me, sad but long since passed, thanks for this read, much enjoyed :)

[TPK Stories]

Your work amazes me everytime I read your poems...excellent.

[Avinash]

Yes some misunderstandings last the life time. No matter how soft and delicate your feelings are the other person may take you in whatever way they convince themselves. However I would say you were saved of a trauma of lifetime. If not the boss then someone else would have been there.

[Marie]

A preventable misunderstanding but for paranoia and jealousy. He's much better off without this woman. What would his life have been like for 20 years if he'd had to put with that sort of thing every day?

[Valentine]

How sad, all because of her jealous streak she may have lost out on 20 years of happiness. At least she will be thinking this way from now on. Nice one David..Kathie

[Bright Ocean Star]

Oh, David...this is a sad tale, indeed. Sweetly written with great rhyme and meter, but I can see this truly happening. Great writing.

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

That case where wonders block curiosity is never kind to the mind, well done, good read.

[MomzillaNC]

A suspicious nature causes so much pain. When a person views everything through eyes of mistrust, they cost themselves and everyone the meet nothing but regret.

[Barbz]

A little bit of jealousy, a little bit of pain....sometimes the thoughts of what once was , not easy to explain.Time could be a healer, sometimes that's just not true. Not cries or sighs or could have beens can right the wrongs we do! No ghosts are in his story, no ghouls that sealed his fate..it's just a matter of the heart..twenty years too late......David Lewis Paget, you bring out my rhyme.....as Master of this Art, you do it All the time.....Barbz