She holds her tears, does not complain
as you treat her with disdain
neglecting her to pursue your whims
careful, soon what’s left of love will dim

once before, you cherished her
showed her daily how much she was valued
each display of tenderness secured
now, like old photo albums, you’ve come unglued

pictures – the visual record of the past
scatter across the floor
depicting the love that is no more
happiness did not forever last

[the poetry unit has begun again… today: the quatrain]

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