Poem: Stolen Goods.
Stolen Goods.
.
How strange to see
That face once more
So unexpected
Yesterday.
To see his walk
The way he moves,
To feel regret, and
Pain, that way.
No point at all
In waiting, ’til
He caught my eye
And crossed the street.
Her ring said she
was settled in,
I could not bear
For us to meet.
They’re married now,
I should have grace,
But still I’d love
To slap her face.
.
.
