It starts with matrimony, on one summer day
They walked round the fire, repeating as told to say
Even before the first winter was over and away
She’d returned, an expectant mother kept at bay
And life rolled ahead, as many before.
With romance banished, the real affair took seed
This time with life and to a new search breed
And her man so far, like tracks that never meet
Travelling together but never to greet
Collecting pain at every stop, and moving again.
As I write a story from a memory so stark
I don’t know who I think of, so many that lack
And yet keep up roles, and hold a straight back
A constant toil until they lose all spark
And even with their finish, it’s never the end.
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