The Window

The Window

A sorry looking lady sits at her bay window by the door
Daydreaming of the day she sat single on the shore
Alone and without worry, no man to take his life
Damn him for coming out and asking her to be his wife
She remembers that first meeting at the lake
When he came along walking straight on into fate
At first she called him scum, he thought she was the best
His breath had smelt of rum, he said she was prettier than the rest
But now he's gone, six years ago today
Lost in a war, his ashes spread about that lake
She most blamed her man, for signing up to die
Causing her to forever live with a heart in mourn to cry