She had two babies in diaper’s, flung high on each hip,
her lips pursed in anger, as a curse word had slipped.
A child still in her bloom, for she was only eighteen,
as the man she’d married, drove nails in her dreams.

On most day’s he’s late, for he loves to linger in bars,
drink beer with the grifters, in her midnight of stars.
She cries in her bedroom, where her children don’t hear,
with her spirit now shattered, she wails aloud bitter tears.

Her mama once told her, girl, you better think twice,
where you make your bed, can bring sorrow and strife.
She wallers in the night, wondering how this could be,
that the man that she loved, trampled all of her needs.

The slow passing of nights, turns her heart into stone,
vowing never to leave him, even though he would roam.
See commitment was greater, for the heart of this bride,
and her children of youth, needed a dad to stand by.

In the years of her life, she did the best that she could,
her heart now a fortress, from the hurts she’s withstood.
Her face is now mortared, by the walls that rage built,
to sustain loves commitment, to her man with no guilt!