Home to Roost

The mornings were cold and dreary when

We used to meet at the Kirk,

And you would be sad and teary on

The blustery days to work,

I’d ask you why you were sad and drawn

But you usually pulled a face,

And knowing you, it was him again,

Your husband, what a disgrace!

I never could understand how you

Had chosen him over me,

He wouldn’t work in an iron lung

But had a ‘need to be free.’

I knew he wouldn’t look after you

But you were blind as a bat,

You didn’t even react when you

Had caught him, kicking your cat.

I knew that he had a violent side,

You said that it wasn’t true,

‘He’s always so warm and loving.’ 

‘Yes,’ I said, ’till he turns on you.’

But nevertheless you married him

And it’s been now almost a year,

Whenever we make our way to work

You’re never without a tear.

I cornered him in a midnight bar

He was more than a little drunk,

I said that he’d better treat you fair

And called him a low-life skunk,

He took a swing and I laid him out

Now you’re never to talk to me,

I see you now and you look away

So our friendship’s not to be.

On Monday, you had a broken cheek

And wore make-up on that eye,

I took you down to the hospital

And I watched you sit and cry,

I swore by God I would get revenge

While he drank at the local bar,

I took some snips and a couple of nips

As I doctored up his car.

Now God in heaven forgive me

Though I did what I had to do,

I need you so to believe me for

I’d not meant to injure you,

You met him there at the bar that night

As my heart was in my mouth,

And climbed aboard, and you hit the road

On the highway, headed south.

I followed some way behind you, and

I really had the shakes,

The oncoming lights would blind you

Then I saw him hit the brakes,

He ran off the road and hit the tree

And you both went through the screen,

I’ve never seen so much blood before

And I knew I’d lost my dream.

I’m standing beside your coffin in

That tiny little Kirk,

The one where we met on Sundays, and

Before we went to work,

No matter how violent he had been

I’d played too fast and loose,

And though he was dead, I knew in my head,

Our sins had come home to roost.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[A Soap Mess Stories]

A lovely tale. Good storytelling.

[Coyote Poetry]

A very honest ending to the amazing tale in the poetry. I liked the characters and the story line in the poetry. Thank you David for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[KT-B]

Another great story David, I was hoping for a happy ending but it was a clever one none the less - as always :)

[Tony Jordan]

That's a tale with a sting in it and no mistake David.
I loved the 'wouldn't work in an iron lung' quip. My own dad used to say about such men 'They couldn't work in a convulsion.' Working class peeps really knew how to peg a person with a witticism !!
Excellent bittersweet piece. Karma is a b*tch.
Nice one DLP