After making love to someone she barely knew again,
Then she starts to think of him,
She doesnt know why she cant commit,
Because he is the one she is in love with,
Her heart aches from things she has done to betray him,
He doesnt know anything but the lies she has gave him,
He loves her to the moon and back,
Theres no doubt in her mind about that,
She tells him shes out with friends,
When really shes cheating on him again,
He hasnt done one thing wrong,
She knows in his arms is where she belongs,
She cant stay true she doesnt know why,
It makes her feel so bad inside,
One night she leaves again kisses him goodbye,
After telling him another lie,
Goes to the bar and meets a new guy,
But this time she diddnt give in,
The guilt was killing her within,
She decided to go home and tell him everything she had done,
Maybe he will understand forgive her and they can stay as one,
If he leaves it will break her heart,
Fear washes over her of them being broke apart,
The things shes done telling him is going to be hard,
When she pulls in the driveway to park,
She wipes her tears takes a deep breath,
Shes going to get all this hurt off her chest,
She walks in the door,
Sees a trail of cloths on the floor,
A womans moans she cant help but hear,
She bust back into tears,
She drops to her knees and covers her face,
She diddnt know how much more her heart could take,
Shes beat herself up for so long,
Because she thought she was the only one doing wrong,
Confussion covers her mind,
She blames herself for being gone all the time,
The moans stop she hears the bedroom door open and footsteps heading her way,
The sadness runs through her now she doesnt know what to say,
He stops dead in his tracks when he sees her,
She knows now he doesnt need her,
She stands her feet “i love you”is all she could say,
“Ive cheated too so we can fix this we’ll find a way”,
She ran to him and hugged him tight,
He whispers in her ear“I love you too i dont want to fight”,
He hugs her back kisses her forehead,
Forgetting all about the woman in their bed,
“Lets do it again thats was great”a womans voice yells out to him,
She knows that voice shes heard it time and time again,
Her heart dropped she started to shake,
Footsteps again coming their way,
She cant beleive her eyes from what she saw next,
She rubbed them once to double check,
“Mom what the heck”
She turned back to him as her mom ran to the back,
She never seen her mom naked before now she cant say that,
The sadness that ran through her body like the river,
She felt her whole body start to shiver,
Her blood ran cold as ice,
Thought to herself this aint right,
Shes done alot of wrong but not like this,
She diddnt know the men she slept with,
No connection to them at all,
No text no phone calls,
“How long has this been goin on” she ask him in a quiet voice,
She had to ask she diddnt have a choice,
He dropped his headand says rel low“The first day i met her”
She cried out loud “so almost as long as we been together”,
He starts to cry “im sorry baby”
She flips out starts goin crazy,
Punches him dead in his nose,
Slams his head in the wall as her anger grows,
Her mom comes out trying to pull her back,
She pushes her down she falls flat,
She storms out of the door,
Her husband and mom still on the floor,
She has never been this mad before,
But the rage she felt just couldnt ignore,
She grabbed the gas can from the back yard,
Thats also where she seen her moms car,
She poured the gas inside of it then on the top,
Her mom came out yelling”stop”,
That diddnt help,
Too late now she thought to herself,
The flames went high but she diddnt think this through,
When a car is set on fire what it can do,
She was standing close,
Then the car explodes,
She felt no pain only darkness nothing more,
Her rage had killed her now she has to answer to the lord,
About the Creator
Mitchell
i work alot got a family of 5 jus scrape by but we do good on here to write poems i write them alot anyway so maybe this way other ppl can read them too
Peanuts and Crackerjack
Bottom of the ninth inning. The game is tied with two outs, two strikes and a man on second. I tap the bat on home plate. The rigid vibrations it creates reminds my aching digits that this isn't over. The practice swing only adds to the heft of mental burnout... Man on second, willing to chance it. Pitcher eyes him but doesn't give in to the dangerous bluff. I kick up dust, readying the peculiar stance I've had since the days of little league. The bat lays stiff upon my cramping shoulder. Pain has no reason to be acknowledged; it's a fleeting afterthought. The sun sits passed high noon, but the stadium lights are on anyway. They trick my brain into believing they are the cause of this sweltering heat. Sporadic clouds are motionless, they too, don't want to miss this exhilarating predicament. Anticipating the next pitch, intensifying roars from the crowd rumble the stadium... Behind me, the crafty catcher adjusts his stance and spits to the dry dirt. Behind him, the staunch umpire doesn't flinch or even blink; he knows how important his call will be. The pitcher winds up, his grip tells me its gonna curve. The release is fierce! Beads of sweat from his hair and face disperse in every direction as the force of his might is unfailing. My left leg lifts—an instinctual move that will increase the power of my swing. It's all down to my two, bloodshot eyes. They lock onto the speeding, white dot as it instantly becomes the target I intend to destroy. The swing is late, but I manage a solid tip. The ball is taking a fast bounce toward the pitcher who is recovering from the almighty throw! Man on second leaves in a desperate rush! I fling the bat to the side with a sense of urgency and make a mad sprint to the only destination I have—first base. Three defenders race inward to be the first to retrieve the skidding ball. Man is almost on third! I watch the open glove of my adversary, wondering if I’ve done enough to win this race. I switch my attention to his eyes, looking for a clue, some kind of reaction that tells me the ball is in the air and heading his way. All I see is frustration. The deafening roar of the crowd spikes! Something happens that I can’t see! My opponent abandons his post right as my left stride touches the bag. I waste no time turning my head to see the pitcher laying on his stomach, pounding the mound with an open glove. He misses the opportunity to out me and the ball has quickly bounced past him. Excitement grows! This isn’t over yet... It's become an imperative fight to tag out the runner heading homeward. The catcher falls to his knees in obvious despair as he watches my teammate make the run of his life. He knows it’s going to be close when he sees the shortstop fumble the ball a second too long. I jump up and down with no plans on leaving first base. All my chips are on the speed and agility of the active runner. His cleats dig into the dirt, trailing a dust-filled cyclone from the rapid and strenuous strides. With a thrusting dive and an outstretched arm, he lands on his chest to begin the crucial slide to home plate. The shortstop fires the ball to the catcher! It immediately begins closing the gap! Nail-biting doesn't begin to describe the anxious vibe permeating the stadium. The bench begins to celebrate even before he reaches the plate. Forty thousand cheering fans reach maximum crescendo, filling the air with a glorious sound. Everyone knows how this story will end… My teammate is met by the entire bench as his fingers inch across home plate, instantly followed by the unmistakable motion of the catcher's glove attempting to tag him out—its milliseconds too late. The ump swings his arms outward, officially calling him safe.
By Lamar Wiggins5 days ago in Fiction
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