The front door slams again
I wince at the sound
Why can't I seem to win?
This time, will he come around?
It happened before many times
He's always come back before,
I haven't committed the crimes
Will I ever even the score?
I hear boots coming up the walk
The door opens behind me
My tears glisten reflected; I can't talk
Is this what I need to see?
His reflection moves behind mine
I turn from the mirror to meet his eyes
Is this the sign?
Will there be any more lies?
DW
© 11-22-92
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