love has a heavy price,

time demands its toll,

ephemeral the bonds

wanton mortality stole


he's in bed, very poorly,

I feel he might be dying,

lucozade's not working,

I hear only weak crying


yet he's had a good life,

for after all, he had me,

swains I rued when he

went down on his knee


long years I devoted

to what is my inferior,

he never had a clue

to my secret interior


but thinks I'm grieving,

or I'll struggle to cope,

he imagines me alone

doing little but mope


contempt stirs my mind,

his fate makes it worse,

he's ruined me for men

and made me his nurse


I'll warm the milk later,

I'll sympathise and kid,

the main thing is he's

going, I'll shortly be rid


or am I being heartless?

is remorse really dead?

on balance I think yes,

I've a mistress to wed


(coronaverse 314)





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Nemesis ►


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