Widower

Sometimes I wish that I was a widower Wishing that death had taken my love away from me, But, instead I was married to a cheating spouse Who wantonly thrived on her own infidelity. I would had rather wept at her grave Than to sit and wonder at her bedside, If God had been the one who had taken her from me At least then for her soul, I would not had cried. Many lonely nights I still solemnly think As I wished that death had taken her away, Instead of her running off with another man, again I wish and pray that she had never went astray. It would had been much easier to visit her at a graveyard Than to see her enter and leave another man's home, if dead, I would had brought her flowers and sat at her grave Knowing from her resting place, she would not roam. I wish that I could look back at all of the good times Of course before my wife's saddened and sudden death But, instead I am not a widower I am a divorcee Now, I just remember the lies that came on her breath. At her funeral her friends and family would had been there They would all had remembered the great woman that she was, But, I am not a widower and she is an adulterer So, to think or to remember the good about her, who does. It would had been easier if I were widowed And my loving and caring wife was resting in peace, In thoughts someday together we would have been in heaven But, now that will never be, nor will my agony ever cease. It is easier to be a widower than a divorcee That I can say with truth and to my departed wife a goodbye kiss, When a spouse is dead the pain someday it will dissipate And if you divorce an adulterer, that pain always exists. Randy L. McClave