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Have a Good Life - No Sorrys


Rusty Broadspear

Her braided hair swung and hung in limp strands
Face smothered with dry and fidgety hands,
Sobs welled forth as her body wracked.
I stepped back from the table; trying to understand.
A beautiful woman, with so much to give
But I felt no guilt as it all started to wilt.
I said I was young, the words obviously stung
But the lives we’d built were irrevocably spilt.
Her arm lashed out, knocking plates to the floor.
She screamed obscenities; I put on my coat.
I couldn’t say ‘sorry,’ we’d swapped future memories.
Still, I couldn’t swallow the lump in my throat.
We’d enjoyed a meal but I couldn’t help feel...
There was a presence, a look in her face that was wrong.
She mentioned the positive test and said we were blessed....
From that moment, I knew, I didn’t belong.
As I closed the door, I knew, I’d see her no more.
I was young and heck.... we were both born with choices.
Our lives briefly touched and I loved her so much.
Apparently she kept the girl/boy and.... I still hear the voices.

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