“The Other Woman”
Solemn looks amid the crowd
My sorrow begs to weep out loud
Conceal my love inside myself
A mere possession on a shelf
Closely guarded the ache I feel
Deeply conscious my heart won’t heal
Clandestine relations behind closed doors
have brought me to this pain I’m sure
It’s true you’re gone and I pretend
To be another mourning friend
With she, the core of this parade
I stand lost soul in her charade
The grieving widow so poised and pleased
Her need for pity at last appeased
Accepts condolence from foe and friend
I’ve performed my part well to the end