Is that people start spewing lies,
About him and their non-existent relationship with him,
As long as he was alive, I had to tolerate these fabricated stories, filled with fantasy and silly whims,
With him dead,
I want these people to shed,
Their bloated ego and superiority,
They must understand at least now, that his feelings for them were in the minority,
A man who couldn’t even place his baby and wife first,
And took on music and work responsibilities, headfirst,
Was most certainly not a family man,
So please, dump your imaginary ideas of him, into the thrash can,
Music, work, toddler, wife,
From a haircut to a doctor’s appointment, to finding a tenant for our old flat, to walking from our rented house to the new one, until my feet bled, I ran his entire life,
He worked in peace, knowing that his house and baby were in the safest hands,
MY HANDS!
Don’t ever undermine my contribution to his life,
Always remember, I was his legally chosen partner and wife,
With him dead,
Consider me dead,
You made our lives a living hell,
If you have any self respect or dignity left, you will never come ringing my bell.
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