When I went out

I sometimes do go out it is a treat
Your number was witheld on my smartphone
I thought that it was spam,I did not speak
Now it’s like we’re vultures on a bone

I’d been with a widow who went mad
Threatening to hang herself again
Or gas herself like poor old Sylvia did
I know too well the anguish and the pain

When I came in I found my ansafone
Full of messages you left that afternoon
You thought that I was loth to hear your moans
Immediately would not have been too soon

You answered saying that you wished to die
The pain you have was too much to be borne
I understand your expression was no lie
The agony that comes before the dawn

But now you don’t believe that I went out
Of my ill intentions you don’t doubt
You think that I was feeling full of scorn
Taking sadists’ pleasure from you torn

I know we all want help with our deep pain
Making threats too often is insane

I welcome comments and criticism

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