I cant place my hand on his true desires
To fill the shoe of a past relic
Or to have me in the corner
Brought out for futuristic usage
I can see myself as a trophy on a mantel
Polished when company comes over
To be staged or paraded around for show
But at the end of the day place back for dust to consume
To remember the good times like a gold cherished memory
Locked away in a vault to be brought out only at the time for reading
The reading of my will
Here is the memories of one so loved
One so beloved
But how
How can I be with someone where life is stored
Stored and left to build interest
For if robbed not bothered to be replaced
So much is looked upon but so much not shown nor shared
In the beginning secrets are told to hide the lies buried deep with in
But what actions are taken when the truth is confronted
Cant this be coincidence that this has occurred
Can the action of the past be so continuous that it has lost all palette
The schema is gone
The ways of the brush has disappeared
Can one whose life be kill before its due time
Or can the life poured be snatch out but one who has fulfilled there purpose
A life so far conquered by one who feel they have finished
Can I as a wife be in this setting
I have carried these doubts in my heart about my husband
But now I am married
In the eyes before God and no objections I’m stuck
I am ridden for all time
For a man that findth a wife findth a good thing
But a man that commits’ a wife with out the equal intent
That what do call this one he calls a wife
A woman who just bares children
A woman who is a arm piece sported and with expiration
I am that unsatisfied with the title I claimed as my own
Or did I make the greatest mistake ever by given myself too soon
I feel so unsatisfied
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