Monday, June 21, 2010


by Jan M Smith, June 2010

I sit here as I come to the conclusion I dreaded the most
I will never forgive my husband, I will never lose that ghost
I shall always see him with my friends making me a fool
I will never be free to live with all the disrespect to my soul

I do not want to be at the junction, the place, this time
I have fought it for two years, he has tried to be so kind
But he can never undo all the horrors he brought to my life
All I ever wanted to do was love him and be his wife

When I say I wish that I had died in surgery in 2004
It is not just for drama, or reaction, or to score
If I had gone to my death and never have been told those facts
My daughters lives would be so much better, so intact.

I would not want him to have the money that came when I died
But, I would be gone, so I suppose he and Patti would wait and then fly
Off to Utah or CO or some state that offers biking Shangri Las
Me out of the way, never the wiser, just stupid as I was til I died

You hurt me you bastard, you bastard, you son of a bitch
You heartless bastard you son of a bitch you killer of my life
You tore out my heart when I was sick, you and that ugly whore
You threw me away, so easily, so easily, you trash on the floor

And now, here I stand in the middle of the ocean
On this island of one and alone with my skin on fire
Asking God why I ever met you, why he hated me so much
To send me you, you, you so evil, so corrupt.