Fate Of The Lonely
Another night of suds and buds.
Little changes, except the mugs.
Drowning my sorrows in my beer.
All the time wishing you were here.
I remember how it came about.
I was sneaking through the backwoods
quiet as a mouse.
I was close when a shot rang out.
I started running as I gave a shout.
“Marie, are you o.k. Marie.”
Then, a shocking sight hit me.
She was lying on the kitchen floor.
Blood all over, even on the door.
A gun near her side, a bullet hole in her head.
I knew immediately that she was dead.
A note on the table explained it all.
It explained why she took this fall.
“I met him by accident one day.”
“A minor fender bender. Who’s fault? Who could say.”
“We had coffee nearby to discuss it all.”
“One thing led to another then came the fall.”
“I love you & I am so ashamed”
“The only way out is to end this game.”
So, I drink to forget my loss.
It doesn’t work. Nothing does at any cost.
One drink for now to help carry the load.
Then one more drink for the road.——R.W. Johnson—–(2020)