I wrote this poem for a creative writing class I had in 2005. This poem is fictional and not based on a real life experience. Comments welcomed and enjoy!
Dead Beat
Tell the children to stop crying and screaming
You’re not dying
You’re not even hurt
You’re only sobbing for show
Your questions pierce my pride like a knife
“Where have you been?” “Who is she?” “Why don’t you love me?”
And you wonder why I do these things to you
I don’t owe you a damn thing
And you judge me like you’re God
I beat you, like to you, cheat on you, and I drink all our money away
Yet you’re still here pestering me like some stray dog that I should have never fed
Your children are so annoying
I don’t love them, I barely love you
Their own father hates them, but he probably hated you more
As do I
What about my needs?
I’m still young and handsome
When other women smile at me, I hurt
Because I know deep down inside they know that I deserve better than you
But yet I’m stuck with you like some incurable disease
But you won’t ever leave me
I’m your medicine
You’re used to me
You must love the taste of your own blood in your mouth
Or is it that you love me more than you love yourself?
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