Angry

I sit here in a darkened room
The curtains are still drawn;
No teardrops, though I mourn!
If I could avoid the doom- that
Faces me, words cannot explain
The hurt, that hurts
And for what it’s worth
I look on in disdain!
How could he take my life?
Though I had loved and lost
And loved and lost, at what cost?
Bitter am I, the murdered wife!
Sorrow no more, pain I feel not;
Broken-shattered-bruised-up heart is all I got!

Copyright © 2009 Carol-Anne Stephens