Another door slammed in my face. I lie in bed, nursing my purple ego. In the apartment above, Or maybe beside, I hear Her puppy dog whimpers that pulse In time to her lover's passion. My own wife, oblivious to herself, Is breathing in rhythm. Synchronized To her sanded eyes. I hold my breath, afraid to knock. Afraid to move along my own path of life. I hope he knows he's a lucky man As I roll over to go to sleep. I shouldn't be up, It's long past midnight, anyway.
Reason for writing:
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