Left left not right she's left
Took off in a flurry with vodka on her breath
Stepped on the gas, went south like it was her last step
And it was, for nightly there ever after she's softly wept
Tired of all the fixings she had worked to build
Filled with fear that she would never see beyond this windowsill
So she dreamed up a scheme and changed it all at will
Recklessly tearing down this home and mommys gone still
Children wail and husbands grieve
They never dreamed their hero would leave
But she took off to taste a buffet of life shed conceived
This is best for all her wasted mind perceived.
What horror story could be more frightening
Than leaving your babies alone to darkness and crying
Never understanding the night their mother flashed away like lightening.
If I said She holds good and right within I'd be lying.
She did this, throws herself at the mercy of angels left dying.
I don't do false flattery. It hurts the author in the long run. This a tremendous write. Honest, passionate, about really, really important things. I tip my hat to you; sharing pain is healing, sharing pain artistically is poetic.
Fatal flaw indeed! Remorseful understanding of the flaw well expressed. It will be hard to rue this impetuous decision.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a very compelling poem. fatal flaw yes it was.