Here's a long sad story I once needed to tell,
But there was no one I knew who'd listen well.
So I put it down here for myself in rhyme.
In hopes I could share it with someone, sometime.
There was so much of this mess rolling around in my brain,
That I guess it's no wonder that I went insane.

I can't tell you why these things happened this way
because those who knew, would not say.
I still don't understand just why my world fell,
but my side of the story, I remember too well.

The husband I cherished, my partner for life,
got real drunk one weekend to say he'd found a new wife.
She called me that night. She thought she was smart.
She twisted the dagger he'd stuck in my heart.

Whispering she said, "He is cheating on you."
All I asked was, "Do you know with who?"
(I didn't know it was she
who was talking to me,
but later on in the drama I'd see)
I found his picture of her later that night,
& I knew who she was from a previous fight.
So early next morning when he had to go,
I set out to find her and face down my foe.
I became a detective and located her place.
Although she was home she would not show her face.
I left her a note, appealed to her good side.
I found out later a hair is more wide.
While leaving her property I ran into her man,
and learned that no one can lie like she can.
The lies that she told to the man in her life,
let me know she would make my man a good wife.

A motel clerk called me later that day
with the receipt I requested (?) "Sorry for the delay."
I learned about her that day on the trail
and later I sent her a letter by mail.

A few days later my man changed his mind.
(another story he wouldn't share)
He had a long talk with a friend of mine.
(I didn't hear. I wasn't there.)
When the talk ended he said it was done.
We went out together and had all the fun.

This lasted two days and then on the third,
he thought he really should give her the word.
He called her up and told her straight.
She took that to mean that she should wait.

A few days later she, as herself, called me
to say she was just friends with my husband, you see.
& she was so friendless, otherwise, it was true,
She wanted me to be her friend, too.
I said, "We can be friends, just don't tell me lies."
(No wonder she phoned, you can't see the eyes.)
She said she and her husband were making things right.
(I doubt he again let's her out of his sight.)
"Our children come first," she and I both agreed.
"Two loving parents are the number one need."
"Can we be friends?" she asked, as if she knew how.
"But I'd rather not give you my number just now."
"I have all my friends numbers?" I was confused.
Then she just hung up and I knew I'd been used.
I saw right through her evil plan.
She wanted near me to be close to my man!

That weekend on Sunday the law came to our door.
(She could have done nothing to hurt herself more)
If she'd known this man she was trying to win,
She'd know he hates cops like Jesus hates sin.
She filed suit against me for writing the letter.
The judge threw the case out. (guess I behaved better)
She was suffering alone about Mother's Day,
having trouble believing he was staying away.
She knew in her heart I had forced him to call,
and if she just waited, she could have it all.

She showed up at school on field day, you see.
Which seemed to be a blessing for me.
Seeing her there made him sorry and sad.
The only feelings she brought him were bad.
What she thought she saw there was different indeed.
Me, holding imprisoned the man that she needed.
So the following Monday, she did the worst ever.
Have you ever seen anything like it? No, never!

She came into my home to set him free.
She called on Jesus to help steal him from me.
She stood in our living room, losing her cool,
With her daughters outside, ready for school.
He laughed at her and asked what she was on,
& she screamed like a shrew before she was gone.
"Okay, you stay with your wife then!" she shared.
"& I'll stay with my husband!" Still hoping he cared.

Well, I'm not his wife now, but neither is she!
(I think since I left, he's on wife number three)
I'm single now and living well,
yet, this is still a hard story to tell.

©Paula McCarty