Forever

Image Credit: No. 8, Black Flowing, Jackson Pollock

At thirty three ignominiously,
His life was scattered around.
He had chosen his wife wisely,
Family-person, filthy rich and sound.

But, he was bereft before he knew,
Left with an infant and an ailing mother.
He incited sympathy of a few,
But his blood relatives did not bother.

You will be mine forever, he had said,
And had entered into blissful marriage.
A path of a new beginning they had tread,
A new chapter of life on a fresh page.

Unknown hands had pictured a messy story;
And the ink was strewn all over the page.
He could blame no one for the lost glory,
And could never come to terms with inner rage.

Written for Magpie Tales: mag 290