Till Death Do Us Part

She has breakfast ready, even on a Monday.
He takes a few bites and then drives away.
Her wave at the window goes unobserved.
She puts on her apron, ready to serve.
She washes the dishes and clears the table,
She folds all the clothes that she is able.
She hangs his pants just the way he likes it,
Then hand sews that pair of jeans he split.
Just when she thinks the day is too long,
The radio plays their old love song.
She checks the clock, he’ll be home soon
As she puts on her dress she hums that tune.
She makes the dinner, it’s his favorite meal.
Asparagus, potatoes, and a lovely veal.
The candles are lit, the table is set.
It’s quarter to eight and he’s not home yet.
The candles dwindle, the food goes cold
Her disappointment remains untold.
After an hour of worry he finally shows,
He walks right by and mutters hello.
He kicks off his shoes and despite her plea,
Waves her aside and flips on the TV.
Alone in the kitchen she throws the dinner away,
Trying to pretend everything is ok.
He climbs the stairs without a word said,
Leaving the TV on, he heads up to bed.
She stays behind and turns it off.
Picks up his coat, his shoes, and his socks.
She puts out the lights and the tears start to fall,
She quiets herself as she nears the hall.
Though the emptiness is hard to bear,
There is something worse than solitaire,
The thing that truly breaks her heart
Is that she is in this till death do us part.