A Widow's Pain

I wake up alone in the morning,
I see sadness in the mirror,
I drink my coffee alone,
I plan my day, but to what

She peeps inside the keyhole
afraid to open the door,
was she the same just a year ago?
when she'd wait for her beloved with

Half a heart

was torn out of me

like ripping a rock in two

which I though

impossible.

Black is now my color,

way beyond

"The color black is not what it used to be,"

the widow sighs or sings.

Strangers think she is being fashionable

or lazy

Her heart cries and her soul bleeds

As she sits alone in her widow’s weeds

No one understands her needs

Her cry for