Our Maureen

Our Maureen sits at an old kitchen table,

She’d say: “I love you,”

If she were able

She instead cried herself sober,

Feeling unwanted,

To him unattractive,

“Used goods,” discarded

She ran back to her hovel

She met her Tony in the back of a pub, where,

He grabbed her tightly and claimed he now owns her,

For she’s a second hand,

That nobody wanted

So she had to settle, while he got his leg ‘ore

With tears in her eyes she thinks back to the old days,

Just her and her Terry,

They were in love then,

In his arms she was cradled,

Only he saw her softness,

For she fell in love with this man and his calmness,

“Terry, you know that I can be a cunt,

But,

I swear I love you from the pit of my heart,

And I swear we’re not romantic,

But my heart, much like a sailor,

Has once sailed away,

And to you it comes back to”

Two happy teens, she was two years his junior.

But she swore to love him

She saved herself for him

But tragedy then happened,

He was accused of a murder,

He did not commit this,

The blame lies on his brother

While locked away she came to see him,

Most daily

With lovely letters, and hand written poetry

She swore to stick by him,

For better or worsened

For she had retired, to love him by sunset

Tony called for Allan,

That’s Maureen’s brother,

To end what they started, and Maureen was left broken

For she thought she’d found love,

That could withstand this crash

She broke down in tears,

And begged for his hand