Incendiary
Barbie
dolls and G.I. Joe’s,
Matchbox
cars, colorful Legos,
all
lost to a house going up in flames.
Please
don't light the match.
She
has always taken the blame,
protected
the childrens’ lives.
Oh,
boy, here’s today’s surprise.
An
empty box (ing), no ribbon tied.
I
know what's mine.
Please
don't light the match.
He
has gaslighted to best effect.
All
decisions in his hands.
He
criticizes, puts her down.
Her
alibis now running dry.
She’s
too busy,
there’s
so much to do,
so
she can't see you,
must
not answer that phone.
Please
don't light the match.
Stay
in this house alone,
keep
the peace for them.
Too
late, she's found that
nerve
in her that twangs
after
he last harangues.
Being
ignored would've been so great.
Please
don't light the match.
Too
late, better this way,
hold
the kids and watch it catch.
Linda Imbler is the author of the incredible poetry book "The Sea's Secret Song" and can be purchased at http://www.somapublishing.com
Tags:
Poetry