An Old Man Laments Poem by Not Long Left

Too long have we battled through storms
made by the force of our finely matured resentment.
Often have we scooped up the shards of our
broken dreams, shattered by the sadness of our reality.
The three things that kept us together have grown
flown onto some life new. Before the shuttter opened
and we saw inside each other, I would spend
the nightly hours watching you sleep I always loved
most then. Those uncontrolled movements and settled sighs.

Yet now as you sleep I spend those nightly hours
blurry eyed, watching late night low budget sex movies
lusting after the black vixen, with her shimmering River Nile legs.
Until the stirrings of shame rise from the below. I am to old for this.
Slowly I rise, hauling my brittle frame with me, grope through
the darkness and put myself to bed, before wiping the
spittle from your bitter bloodless lips.