THE WASTE BIN

I heard my poetry
It was thrown
Into the waste bin
At the hospice home
Forty years
With venom and hate
Revenge no forgiveness
A written fate.

In old age now
Your beauty gone
But a poet remembered
Your shining sun
The smile you bore
Your deep kind heart
The day you left
To make a new start.

Life is cruel
It reflects our pain
What I suffered
Now you gain
Not in payback
I hold no blame
I merely remember
When Summer came.