Maiden

Why have I become a victim to yet; another man’s insecurities.

His trife saved for his desired wife,

A ring will remain a link to the chain my soul pleads to break.

But, I take his pain and heal it; while cleaning, and preparing his meal.

Loving everything he loves, but I do not expect the same.

That in itself should have been enough.

Do not get upset or He; will not heal.

And my lack will be to blame.

Aggravation and deprivation coexist comfortably,

Flirting with each other’s wickedness;

Like gold jewelry wrapped around my fingers, neck, and wrist.

What is the cost of true devotion?

All of loves toil.

What was once protected lay broken; spoiled.

And still a blanketed face; numb with contempt.

Words once softly spoken, yield no pretense.

Thickened blood, rich as garnet.

The chains began to break; and empty your bed.

When I lie awake and think of that day,

I can’t help to think of the gain, in my maiden name.

Maiden, I am; And a wife I’ll choose to be someday,

I recognize my wealth;

No longer victim to a man’s self disdain.