The Manuscript

 
Prolog: Once upon a time and a long time ago
a tragic but common story begins to unfold,
there was a woman burdened with many woes,
she worked very, very hard to makes her ends meet
head down she toiled never a complaint heard
nor ever a tear was to be seen.
She knew she was past her prime,
“homely” some men would say,
she was in effect as plain as long was the day,
no great beauty of her time
and yet she was uncommonly kind,
hardworking, dedicated to a fault,
domestically, in the arts of a wife, well taught.
And so time passed, every day the was the same
until it so happens that a drifter
spots this woman, this “plain Jane”
he smelled and opportunity,
this woman needs a man,
and by God that would be him!
the crafty Lothario began to scheme…
How to convince this normally shrewd
and precocious woman to let him in?
He would catch this hen! And so it began…

Fast forward ten years later…

Written here on my battered flesh
is the evidence of his betrayal and disrespect,
in every crease, grief, in every fold
and exclamation mark!
He, the vile author of this tragic saga
many years in the making,
left nothing to show for it except
the hollow words he inscribed
on this withered sheaf (my body) he left behind.
Never content with the blessings life granted
he wanted more
always looking elsewhere
for greener shores.
Now, in the autumn of our lives,
when we are supposed to be enjoying
the fruits of our loins and labors he decides
he wants to recapture the youth that is passing him by.
So he resolves to rewrite his life
discarding this old book
with its tattered yellowing pages
because it no longer serves hi new life view,
and the direction his urges are taking.

The years and devotion be damned!
The promise to love in sickness and health
was not what he cared about at this time,
he wanted new, young, fresh and fertile,
to write his new epic and recreate his “boring life”.
That meant reneging on every promise made,
defaulting on the commitment he swore to back in the day.
Loyalty meant nothing, it was part of an antiquated past,
he wanted what he wanted, all else once again be damned!

Ahhh so there you have it, in silent testimony I stand,
the discarded manuscript of his past,
now his new script includes a fresher protagonist
and the new chapter they’ve birthed.
In the rubble he left behind,
I, the discarded old book,
while yellowed, withered and frayed…
am also an undeniably well written manuscript
that will outlive and outlast comic strip any day.

We shall see the outcome of this tragic comedy,
its binding is not yet set,
there will be another chapter that’s the irony
life is ever changing and what is promised
is not always what you get.      
Gypsy Red