She bonded to him, till death they do part,
And merry they danced to the beat of years,
And picked wildflowers as red as their hearts,
While time flowed by, unencumbered by tears.
Now clumsily they waltz, feet lost asea.
Steps turn to missteps, they cannot keep time.
Shiny love rusts away, no longer cherry.
Respect fades too, scoured in bitter brine.
Time has a way of erasing what’s good
As bad temper, bad times, roll through the home.
He shouts and curses, is constantly rude,
But she’s grown too old to think she can roam.
Patient, but not content, she holds her breath,
Waits not for love, but for respite—sweet death.
©2021 KT Workman
(Note: Shakespearean sonnet—has 14 lines divided into 3 quatrains and a couplet. Each line typically has 10 syllables written in iambic pentameter. Rhyme scheme: a-b-a-b, c-d-c-d, e-f-e-f, gg.)