Poetry by Jeff Green


The decision

by cricketjeff on November 27, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

Alone at the table, she’s sitting and thinking
He’s late, and she’s waiting, again
She knows she’s unable to leave, so she’s drinking
She’s hurt and she’s crying, in pain

He called, gave directions, and promised to be there
She went, just as he knew she would
He’ll say some deflections have pushed him to elsewhere
He’s sure that he’ll be understood

She’s suddenly certain her mind’s at a junction
She knows she’s decided it’s time
Now lifting the curtain her mind starts to function
She can’t take his lies and this crime

Too late he’s approaching his confidence brimming
A night on the town then her bed
The facts start encroaching his manner needs strimming
As emptiness enters his head

He took her for granted and hurt her too deeply
She’s making a life on her own
The seeds once they’re planted are gathered so cheaply
He’s spending his life on his own