In a basket on my desk there are twelve coins of various values,
A few handwritten notes jotted down when things began going wrong,
Seven unclaimed keys, one left behind after a few drinks too many,
Three keys meant to open padlocks of long deserted farmhouses,
And two keys from a car missing somewhere on the back roads.
The stately clock in the hall ticks steadily along,
Unaware that the weather has changed and a cold storm approaches.
It’s raining outside and my arms are empty.
But I know my destiny is calling and I must answer,
The rain will turn into snow and cover my tracks.
Tonight she’s with someone and I wait impatiently,
My rage contained and hidden behind a smile and a promise.
I know which farmhouse they’ve been visiting,
And I know by now they have had too much to drink.
The missing car is lost forever, just like my love for her.
If we could have kept our love unblemished,
We could have grown closer instead of apart.
If she had been faithful and remained committed,
Those keys would have rusted away without being used.
It’s snowing now and I know I’ll miss her warm embrace.
The blanket of white is so appealing,
All the ugliness will be covered until spring.
All that I’ll keep are the coins to remember,
Erasing the pain from my broken heart,
Each coin represents a lover. Why did they all go wrong?
By Dan Roberson