Broken Romance

His bride

stumbles in

drunk again

smelling strongly of other men.

She steps

in the door

falls to the floor

and sobs, "I'm just a whore."

And his heart

breaks as she takes

labored breaths,

sobs for her mistakes.

He aches

to hold her

nor scold her

his love is bolder

than the boulder

of the weight of

her sins.

And so begins

the dance of their

broken romance.

Each glance she steals

only reveals his look

of love that heals

as she feels

at peace again.

Again he dries

from red puffy eyes

tears cried a thousand times

'cause she tries and tries

but the lies

and eyes

of idols

passing idly by beguile

with a smile

and then

she's gone . . . for a while.

She turns, returns

as each lover spurns

and rejects her,

infects her,

neglects her,

ejects her.

She recalls the one who selects her.

He fights for her

delights in her

would change the sky's lights for her

because he'd die for her.

He did die for her.

So again he holds

her close

dries her eyes

with his clothes

and anew she knows

her first and only love.