Picture Courtesy: http://writes4mhrsoul.wordpress.com/2011/10/18/sober/
He sat there sunk in a shining silver couch,
Nervous and silently whining a regret so dire.
Gulping down a goblet of red wine he vouched,
He sneaked few short gazes at her sleazy attire.
She embraced a wicked smile painted red,
A fake kiss or a hopeless lust, what’s on his mind?
He slowly walked on the creaking floor while he said,
Just talk the lust I am longing for since, I lost track of time.
He stroke her hair only to make his wedding ring glitter,
Yet he had his wallet full to keep the night going.
She knew he is an unusual but will never be usual; visitor,
As he burst his agony bubble with frequent sobbing.
Several dark days passed bringing in a ray of hope,
To be his’, to take all his agony, to be loved and be needed.
She felt him closer enough to leave no room for dope,
Just so he could make her a woman who is once completed.
This night, she looked beautiful in her favourite dress,
Naked face, hair done; just like on a date years ago.
She was nervous with her heart racing faster than her steps,
She was delighted that what exists now will forego.
Until, she received a note from her lover,
Thanking her for making him love again.
For now he is living his life with a wife, his real lover,
Their picture tucked in the loaded wallet, a gift to this dame.
The note crumpled in the fist, silently choked on her chest that hurt,
Pinned up their picture on the wall and the wallet lost under the bed cover.
Burning her skin yet again with red lipstick and a leather skirt,
She walked out with a smudged liner looking for another midnight lover…