Traces Poem by Lyn Paul

Of Greed' in your unopened wallet
Of Greed' when buying a house You had zilch- only pennies
A fool was I

Only you were ever ill
HYPO CON DRIAC, every chance
Operations, I was perfect support
A slow slow healer were you
You enjoyed your "bed holiday "
Blind was I!

Your family full of hatred, never to be pleased
I knew you were unnatural
Simply inhumane
I had chosen the perfect specimen
When leaving a "save less" marriage

Born with control
I knew only to Nurture

Your Traces were for golf, you bought yourself a camera
A big urge you had for Miley
She was permanently on PAUSE
Save less was I

Your degrading mental attacks
Took everything from me
You gained I lost from your DV
Manipulator you are
The Traces are your Mummy

A Fool Was I

Copyright Reserved
March 2005
Lyn Paul