Image showing a writing book and a quill

I wrote a poem yesterday and deliberately left it as a cliff-hanger, so every reader had the opportunity to construct own, unique version of events after I left off. Here is mine, continuing in verse form:

They walk back for their nightcap,
Of course, he’s wanting more,
But as they reach his hotel,
She pauses at the door.

“I can’t go through with this”, she says,
“It just does not feel right”,
“It isn’t you, it’s me, my love”,
And, once again, takes flight.

Away at a safe distance,
She realises misguide,
This all too topsy-turvy,
She hails another ride.

One minute scarlet woman,
Now going home instead,
On ride home she determines,
What future lies ahead.

When reaches her apartment,
She knows what she must do,
She wakes her dozing husband,
“I’m sorry, babe, we’re through.”

So there we are, they both struck out. She thinks it’s wrong to commit adultery but she also think it’s better to be out of a failing relationship.

Author: Mister Bump UK

Designed/developed large IT systems, interrupted by a stroke in 2016, aged 48. Now mix development of health-related software with voluntary work and writing. Married, with an estranged daughter.

5 thoughts on “Strength”

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