Betrayal

When late frosts nip the first fresh buds of Spring
Then am I betrayed
When loved ones fail to see my toil
And tramp their mud across the floor
Then am I betrayed
When children don’t come home to play
Choose friends’ homes not our own
And friend and kin alike dismiss
My need for company
Then am I betrayed
But most of all: the biggest hurt
Is when I finally see
That hope is dead and plans in vain
The future ne’er will be
Because the Love of all my life
Prefers another to me.

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About Rosalie Squires

'Who am I?' is a question whose answer keeps evolving, that can be answered in many, many ways; that has no known answer at all. But there are some clues to be found: stocksharpsquires.wordpress.
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