Daft, I was, the day I married you.
I thought that it was love, but didn’t know
or realize how much I’d come to rue
the saying yes. Because you didn’t show
at first, those things about you I can’t stand:
mostly, your unwillingness to grow.
And yet, I let you take me by the hand,
and promised that we wouldn’t part til life
left one of us. But now this no man’s land
we live in is too often filled with strife:
resentment too, doth cut me like a knife –
what might I have become, if not your wife?
3/4/24
Karen McCaskey 