Topic: the argument
this is a mostly true tale of the break up of my first marriage 45 years ago. it came to me last night as i was getting into bed and appreciating more than ever my relationship with Ann.
faces red, nose to nose.
eyes of fire, tears of anger.
voices loud, the reason forgotten.
hate now grows at loves demise.
he holds the babe, she screams "he's mine"
he turns away " don't forget he's mine too"
"i was there remember?"
" were you?" is her bitter reply
his silence a testament to his inner fears
he looks at the child crying in his arms
"does he have my eyes?...no
my nose, my mouth?
is this indeed my child?"
the only sound are the baby's cries
he studies her face, she's pleading now
she knows she's crossed a line, a secret revealed
"it was just spite, of course he's yours
you do believe me, don't you?"
he gives the child gently into her arms
he reaches for a bag and throws some things inside
without a sound he leaves the room depressed
"you're not leaving us are you?" her words laced with guilt
he stops at the door and turns to look at her one last time
with hurt and anger in his face and voice
"I'll come back for my stuff when I've calmed down"
then through the door
"that's it. I'm out"