My Last Wife

When the sun misses its way home
And the sky forbids it a dwelling
My heart like a tree that has fallen
My joy like a cloud is wandering
Alas! Angels look on my plight
Knowing i need their wings for a flight
To a very great height
Maybe beyond the star
To a secret place afar
Where life will be a bar
This is my last wife
The one who shredded my life
With bare but not a knife
My last wife drives me from home

Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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