The Empty Bed


Empty and alone she cries

Reaching out in the dark

Alone and lonely she lies.

Sheets and room so stark.

He is gone never coming back

Disappeared from her life

The pain and it’s attack

From no longer being wife.

The past comes to visit late

Pokes its boney finger

To whisper and berate

Haunt and linger.

In the daylight, she is fine

Can push away the dark

But at night even with her wine

It is bitter, empty and stark.

Was it her hateful words that did it?

Or her cold heart

Doesn’t matter now can’t rid it

Can’t make it go or start.

Leaves her there in the cold

Where warmth was instead

She spins and is rolled

into her empty bed.

By Gale A. Molinari

Sharing my views on just about everything that enters my mind. Fasten your seatbelts it is going to be a bumpy ride. I am just a lady of a certain age somewhere between the dinosaurs and stalactites. Musing over lessons learned and sharing those with others. I really am interested in your views on what I write so fire away and thank you for taking the time to check out my blog. this is my poetry blog perhaps you would enjoy that too!!


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