a poem by Krzeslawa T. Skrzypczynska, Poland - poetry writer, author, poet

She married him
from her pure calculation.
Alone with children, she was.
The rogue, him, didn’t know
that he is not the only eager
one to this honey.
Climbing this ladder,
he thought he would gain.
I know it because his younger
he did the same.
Such a mentality.
And that one, too, was climbing up such rungs.
He used to benefit.
This one wanted to erase
the past,
whose already the only prove up now
am I, me.
It was not allowed to mention.
It was not allowed to squeak.
It lasted inside me
and lasts, in me, fulfilled with anger
that since now I am out of nowhere.
and he...
up today he's feigning.
Is it dumb jealousy or
already his own

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