Choices

As she finishes sweeping the dulled wooden floor
She remininisces of a time now past.
The days light hangs on ceilings, cobwebs and cracks-
As she wonders, how'd life past by so fast.

Shrugging, she takes her broom, embraces it for a dance,
Twirls around the floor, they never got the chance
A lost but not forgotten love, a passionate romance.
She feels the pain of poverty, takes out the trash

To the left of the burnpile is where it should be.
Now cracks weave and riddle across a concrete slab
Of her home to be that she never had.
Her mixed emotions flurry; some mad, most sad.

Kids once played 'neath the old sycamore tree-
Now withered by drought, not withstanding the heat
Down the road comes John, he sure looks beat.
Ain't hardly nothing left but bones, a little meat

John's been gone most all morning long-
Gone to the welfare office again.
As he nears, she see's his apologetic grin.
He hands her the food stamps, say's, "It's a sin."

Turning away, there's a sorrow in his walk.
She think's it's been too long, misses his lips.
The burden in his heart has taken a grip
And twisted the man who once gave a rip!

Were they so wrong, the choices she made?
Could it be better, been worth the wait?
She see's him from time to time and they pass the day
To herself, her real love but she chose to stay.