Midnight Lady Poem by David Welch

A Cheating wife,
a man next door,
a tired life,
tequilla on the floor.

A dead-end job,
a broken home,
my castle robbed,
of its sacred throne.

Her wounds cut deep,
her eyes just hate,
she doesn't feel the heat,
and her period's late.

I long to solve
with my own hands,
and leer down at,
a dying man…

She lies to me,
she bathes in sin,
thinks I don't see
what she does with him.

I could go,
it hurts to stay,
but somehow I'll
make that woman pay.

Ten years gone,
no longer twenty,
she just wants more,
when I gave her plenty.

Another path,
is mine to play,
she's not alone,
I can play this game.

So to the city,
and too the bars,
I'll find another,
I will make my mark.

I'll find a girl,
young, fit, and hot,
and do with her
what my wife will not.

And in the end
one day she'll see
the price of her man,
is my midnight lady.

That day the pain,
I'll see in her eyes,
and she'll know what
eats at me inside…