I Loved Him You Know

A look at perceptions of women in seemingly romantic poems that deliberately leads the reader to feel sympathy for the woman unless they notice the break in rhyme scheme.

Glasses

They lay shattered

as he bled on the floor.

The were forgotten,

as he ran out the door.

Years later,

they are still here,

a memory,

that I hold dear.

Sometimes I wonder,

if I put them on,

will I see what he saw

before he was gone?

Will I see my own face

through shattered glass?

Will I see what I did,

now that it's passed?

I wasn't wrong

but I wasn't right

and I wonder how

it looks through his sight.

He wasn't right,

but he wasn't wrong,

and it had to end

before very long.

They lay there. Shattered.

He bled on the floor.

And I'm glad he forgot them,

when he limped out the door.

Sometimes I wonder,

if I put them on,

will I see if I could

have fixed what was wrong?

They're in millions of pieces,

no amount of tape,

could piece back together

what started with I loved him you know.

I stood there shattered

as he ran out the door

leaving his glasses

broken on my floor.

He had his reasons,

I knew them well,

but he had no right to go

love is always hell.

The End.

Author's Note

I'm a very picky author and I never break rhyme scheme unless I have a reason