Mess On The Floor

She looked upon him with uncaring eyes  
Sickened at how he grovelled at her feet  
He reminded her of gray, weeping skies  
She preferred her men bitter and not so sweet, 
He heaved and sobbed for her love  
Her stomach turned at such a display  
As he clung to her like a tight glove  
She only wished that he'd go away,  
Who cringed at the feel of his flowing tears  
Wondering how long a man could cry?!  
Pressing her palms against her ears  
Wishing he'd crawl away and just die,  
True to expectation his grief turned to rage  
Attempting to regain the respect he'd lost  
She'd already seen much at her young age  
His blood warm while her's was frost,  
She yawned at the lunacy of his pitiful act  
His threats like the buzzing of flies  
That's when she demanded her housekey back  
With shock his anger became whimpering "why's",  
That's when he pulled out a handgun  
Pointing it at her then at himself  
Saying he preferred death if they were done  
Blowing his brains all over the bookshelf,  
With a startled cry she then ran  
Leaping over the mess on the floor  
Wiped at her books' with a trembling hand  
And cried for the ruined books she did so adore;  
Then angrily kicked, at the mess on the floor."