In response to Bartholomew Barker’s
Living Poetry Monday Poetry Prompt: TORTURE
Torture knowing you go home
to her every night
cooking, eating, cleaning,
sleeping – together.
Torture viewing pictures
of what could have been,
you with your children
and grandchildren.
Torture thinking of you at night
sleeping comfy and warm
curled up and secure
with – her.
Torture all alone in my bed
toss and turn in the sheets
‘til the suns rays break through
my torture.
Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words 
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