Ancient History Poem by Robin Bennett

Sitting in the naughty corner,
using up all of my
dismal present, talking of
our ancient
history.

Angry and broken,
I find another lonely
horse, and a knight
in rusted
armor.

Strong willed minds,
think alike as
we fight for
a loveless
home.

Pictures, watercolor
images; look
strangely
obscene now.

Still we are two
actors in a
tragedy, so vile
it's become
comedy now.

A stormy marriage
left me to
walk through
life with a black
cloud overhead
ready to
erupt.

Dividing possessions,
just like splitting
hairs. You laugh,
I die.