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Our Swan Song

by Jason Morton 16 days ago in sad poetry

The Door Not Opened

Our Swan Song
Photo by Karim MANJRA on Unsplash

I'm not much of a poet but this is something that is based on my life, and one hundred percent true. It's all about the one I should have gone with, my real-life door number two.

I had an epic fail once upon a time.

It started the Thursday before my wedding, I was at work that day. Looking backward in time leaves me little to say.

You came to tell me I was wrong, your words were so beautiful and long and you tried your best to get me to consider what was in my interests.

I was far too gone to give it up though. I knew the risks and still planned for the wedding to be a go. Later that day you would tell me the rest.

Try as you might, I would not listen. My stubborn side is to blame for the life I would end up missing.

Then came Friday, to flowers on my car. You left me a note, describing to me you were willing to go very far.

You followed me around those aisles, dodging stock day piles, as I worked through my day, my nerves beginning to fray. I stood my ground with you, not willing to relent.

You offered me the world, including more sins to repent. I wanted a life minus one less secret to hold. Looking back over the years, I was wrong, truth be told.

You were five feet of fury those last several days, bound to sway me, using any of your feminine ways. Try as I might, you still made me think. Was I doing the right thing, or would my life start to stink?

Was it our time, it hadn't been before? What was making it any different, when you burst from that car door? You and your friends, blocked me and mine in, as you bound for my car, determined to win.

I've never forgotten what all of that effort meant. Since then, many nights thinking about them, were nights I just wept. For life could have been different, if any night I had listened. It would be your lips, that I remember how they glistened.

Then, came the day, you fought so hard to stop. On the day of the end, a tear we wept not. If I hadn't one before, a memory you sure left. Many times when I think of it, are nights that I wept.

That last final day, you showed up at the chapel. Your mission was simple.

You were there to stop my mistake, stop me from taking the wife I would take. You knew what she would do, you knew I'd regret it too.

You were right, you know. Your five feet of fury. I remember as we said our I do's. Thinking only of you, Cherie.

You were the one that loved me the most. Now, you're just a part of my memory, rolling around like a ghost.

When we were young, your mom split us apart. It would take years, to realize you still had so much of my heart. She said if I could turn back the clock, she would gladly do so, a regret we both shared, as I carried a pain she would never know.

sad poetry
Jason Morton
Jason Morton
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Jason Morton

I have spent a life in uniform, adventuring through this muddled-up world as time passed. I've lived, loved, fallen on my face only to try again. Now, as I get older, my only regret was not writing it down. It's time to start.

See all posts by Jason Morton

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