“Why Did It Have To Change”

Why did it have to change

why did we have to get older

or should that have even mattered


When did you stop loving me

or did you ever love me

I was young

too young  perhaps

too quiet, not the party girl

not like the one you had before


When did you stop touching me

why did you do that

I could see your eyes when I touched you

you really didn’t want me to

do you know the pain I felt

being so rejected


Why did it have to change

always pretend I never saw it

what did I do to turn you off

had babies you really didn’t want

yet kept that quiet until too late


Why did it have to change

why did you stop touching me

when was that, too far back to think

except we lived a lie

before you died you said “sorry”


I remember in Kinsale

that morning in the kitchen

you apologized to me

you believed the lies about me

and then too late

you saw the truth


That was September 1994

Three months later

you were Dead


Why did it have to change

when did it

far too long ago

Why did you waste my years and yours

pretending that you loved me

why, why






6 thoughts on ““Why Did It Have To Change”

  1. I suppose that we have questions that can never be answered, Anna. I’m a firm believer in the best years we have are the ones that we make the best, regardless of age. I hope that you are well today, my friend! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You are so wise, and I always appreciate your kind words. I am fine thank you, you too I hope. Trying to sort out another poem for the “afternoon” thing and have started a “story” as well not sure about sex yet, maybe a bit of violence, not sure. Trying to get the washing done too and forgetting the ironing! Never seem to have enough time to do it all, don’t get old Rob. Times, my mind feels young but the rest oh well.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I hope to read your story soon, Anna. Sex and violence in a story seem to capture the imagination better than most topics, and you know that I enjoy your erotica. As far as aging, we start to grow old the moment we’re born, right? No sense in fighting it – just enjoy each day.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes indeed and I wish to God I could just bundle them all up and throw them away, maybe one day I will. Every day I tell myself look ahead, nothing I can do about the past. In a strange way writing about it all does help me.

      Liked by 1 person

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