Diamonds and Coloured Glass

Her husband left her in the lurch;
better he’d left her in the church,
twenty years she had to search
for a kind word or a present.

We all knew, he was a prick
although he looked so fucking slick.
I suppose love just makes you thick;
accepting years of torment.

Christmas’ come and birthdays go
like the seasons; sun, or snow
she always put on such a show
but we all knew for certain.

We all knew how much she cried
but always kept her head up high;
she’d given all but kept her pride
behind her cheap net curtain.

On her birthday, he popped his clogs
With his mates out at the dogs
Dressed to kill in his best togs
Somehow this seemed fitting

Four kids and a council house
was left by her devoted spouse
and yet she’s quiet as a mouse
beside his coffin sitting.

For love, we just can’t legislate
it’s no good simply to berate;
once love bites, it much too late -
besides, they wouldn’t listen.

Some day we’ll invent a pill
called ‘Common Sense’ or ‘Lover’s Chill’,
that while allowing some free will,
won’t let glass, like diamonds glisten.