Feeling The Satisfaction Poem by Christine Kerr

Empties were laying,
All around the shelves.
Some friends won't see me,
Till it snows in hell.

My limbs are aching,
My knees are weak.
My best friend has been,
The toilet bowl seat.

My husband was screaming,
Right in my face
'It's all your fault
That I'm acting this way.'

There was no more compassion,
For the smear of disgrace,
My satisfaction,
Was getting out of this place.

The race was on,
Then he missed the road.
I gasped for some air,
as he hit the pole.

The night is late,
I'm getting cold.
Or is that my soul,
That's just been sold.

He tried to catch me,
As his soul left this place.
The crowed gathered,
While I sank from grace.

The sirens were flashing,
My eyes squinted red.
Held him with some compassion,
As life drained from his head.

(Just wishful thinking)