Solitude…

Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday.
Lights turned out,
Wake up call set;
Seven-thirty a.m.

Head on pillow,
Legs outstretched,
Blanket pulled over,
Slumber sets in.

The phone rings,
A minute passes,
Groan.
Finally awake.

Hygiene. Appearance. Coffee.
Thank God it’s Friday…
Down to the metro,
And up the elevator shaft.

Five o’clock,
Work’s out,
Straight to the bar,
One vodka tonic coming right up!

Eye at the door,
She walks in.
She searches the room,
Their eyes meet.

The hotel suite.
Love or lust,
Who’s to say?
Satisfaction perhaps…

The children. The spouses.
Waiting all weekend,
By now,
Are, accustomed.

Bed time; Sunday evening.
Back home.
‘I missed you kiddo.’
‘I love you babe.’

Samantha..

Half a decade after birth,
Little Miss Samantha,
Leaves behind her Daddy
- He loved her, a tad bit too much.

Forty-eight months later,
Little Miss Samantha,
Falls in love
- The girls in school avoid her.

One-O-four weeks after
Little Miss Samantha,
Loses her Mommy
- Apparently she slipped of a bridge.

Two calendars later,
Little Miss Samantha,
Is no more little
- She’d done it all too many a time.

Three-sixty-five days pass,
Miss Samantha,
Now stays up all night
- Busy, selling herself.

Sweet Sixteen,
Miss Samantha,
Lives the high life
- Injecting the virus accidently.

Two decades, less a year after birth,
Miss Samantha,
Sleeps on stone slabs
- Two hearts beating within.

Nine months beyond,
And Miss Samantha,
Is finally cured of her misery
- Death by birth.