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by Matthew Harris
someone who lives a couple doors down from this motley crue
stealthily placed an unsigned letter inside our mailbox earlier this day
a strong backed hunch that said missive came from you
meaning the sir name of titled poem sometime during this fifteenth of may!
this assertion substantiated at the inclusion of abby – thy wife
in reference to chauffeuring her to the community college in blue bell
and hints that she ought to be civil and less sarcastic within the span of life
plus necessity for us to be watchful of our girls, which i appreciated ye to tell
this husband can concur that the one whose troth be did pledge
quite challenging to her family of origin and even to yours truly can be curt
which marriage with youngest zison daughter seems to teeter on the edge
of sanity along a boulevard of broken dreams – whereby thine psyche doth hurt!
if my intuition correct and ye happen to be the one who left a hand written note
in regard to how an angel of mercy (from this keystone state) did guard
against a near fatal collision ‘tween progeny while on her bike light as a dust mote
said death of my beloved progeny would be devastate this mister dad very hard!
although nine years old, she (most likely the youngest) oblivious to danger at bay
no matter concerned father forewarns her to ride along the side of greentree lane
so blithely pedals in the spring time air with nary a care enjoying innocence hooray
blissful childhood could come to a crashing halt nearly ending this quatrain!
aside from offering appreciation for anonymous concern for moi little girl
an sos included in this extemporaneous endeavor unsure if query apropos
dealing with a fretful marital strife and daily struggle generating that elvis lip curl
living situation suitable for macabre genre like stephen king or edgar allan poe!
if thine not so beloved counterpart only knew
this figurative message in a bottle dashed off in a huff
she might rant, rave and stew
against befriending one who probably comes across as glum and gruff!
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