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(22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

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Cold, Cold Heart

When Michael married my girlfriend
I was standing, up at the back,
I didn’t want to be seen in there,
They’d think I was there to attack,
So I stood behind a pillar of stone
By the door, but out of view,
And I turned and left as a tear fell
When I heard her say, ‘I do! ’

Just where had it gone so terribly wrong
I thought, as I walked away,
Barely a month had passed us by,
I’d given a ring that day,
She’d seemed surprised, and I’d seen her eyes
As she cast them down to the ground,
‘It’s a lovely ring, and I thank you, Tim, ’
But she’d bowed her head, and frowned.

I didn’t know she’d been seeing him
On the sly, each Thursday night,
I’d always worked that night at the Kirk,
I was safely out of sight,
I heard today that they’d pawned my ring
Then gone straight out to dine,
And he had bought her another one
With the money they got for mine.

But Michael, he was a ne’er-do-well
With an eye for a lady’s leg,
He’d never held down an honest job
But borrowed and thieved and begged,
It wasn’t long, and he’d left her home
While he spent his nights on the prowl,
So I called on her one Friday night,
She came to the door, and howled.

‘I’m sorry, Tim, but I’m over him,
I should have stuck fast with you,
I know you’ll never forgive me, but
Now what am I going to do? ’
I looked at her and I thought of all
I’d been going through since the part,
Then I looked inside, and I couldn’t hide
I was left with a cold, cold heart.

‘You can always get a divorce, ’ I said,
‘You could throw him out of the house.’
But she shivered then at the thought of it,
She had the heart of a mouse.
‘I could meet you when he’s away, ’ she said,
‘It would be like the days of old.
I could love you then like I used to do,
Don’t leave me out in the cold! ’

I said that I’d go and think on it
Then wandered back home to Penge,
I rubbed my hands at the thought of it,
The thought of a sweet revenge.
I called her up the following week,
‘I’ll see you on Friday night,
But you have to sign for the Motel room
While I keep out of sight.’

It went as planned, she rented the room
And lay flat out on the bed,
I must admit I enjoyed myself
With evil thoughts in my head.
I popped a pill in her fizzy drink
And it put her out like a light,
Then stabbed a knife in the water bed
Went out, and whispered, ‘Goodnight! ’

I sat and waited for Michael then
By the side of his own front door,
He rolled up drunk in the early hours,
Said, ‘Why are you here… What for? ’
‘I’ve just been having it off with her,
The wife that you stole from me,
You’ll find her still in the bed we shared
At the Motel Room, one-three.

I hear he’s locked in a prison cell,
An attempted murder charge,
And I’ll be taking up knitting, so
I can cackle like Madame Defarge,
They say that he tried to drown his wife
In the water bed, that night,
She swears it must have been him, because
He was caught there, dead to rights!

29 June 2013

Submitted: Friday, June 28, 2013
Edited: Saturday, June 29, 2013


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Comments about this poem (Alisa by David Lewis Paget )

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  • Lorraine Colon (6/29/2013 4:57:00 PM)

    You devil! Awesome poem, as usual!

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