He Was Rich… I Chose You

He was rich and I was young

He’d built castles

I had songs unsung

He bid for my heart with words

And gold

Since I was young, it felt cold

You were of swarthy stock

Handsome, swashbuckling

Large of cock

You promised nothing, but

You were there

For some foolish, biological reason

I began to care

After years of drunken beatings

Cruelty stunning passion’s glare

I realized his offer valid,

Into numb space I now stare

Gone am I from both of you

Recognizing good from true

Would I but chose the easy way,

Be writing this poem today?

Rain Knight 6/22/99

In recognition of Dorothy Parker’s angst.