What I thought was to be a merger of two minds,
Has turned to be a wet and soggy dream,
He promised he would taper down from his boyish antics,
But it was just a cunning plan to convince me otherwise,
When I fell for his assurances,
I became part of the furniture for our home,
The places we used to go to while courting,
Are now out of bounds,
Why?, because I am a married woman,
But married men are allowed?

I kept myself away from men,
Just to be wholesome for the man I married,
But this was not what I had in mind,
When I raised my concerns about his boozing,
He said those were only the uni days,
They will fade away as we settled into married bliss,
Fifteen years now am still waiting for that happiness,
I have done aunties, his friends, the pastor, the lot,
But the counselling goes from one ear through the other,
The dildo I bought cannot replace human touch,
Am a widow, I have lost my husband to intoxicants,
Yet he is alive, what happened to our vows,

Am beginning to feel lusting towards the garden boy,
He is kind and talks to me politely,
He is always there when I need him,
My children spend more time with him than they do with the said man of the house,
When my car has a puncture the garden boy is the man,
Last time there was an intruder,
The garden boy managed to scare him away,
And consoled me and my children,
Who is the man of the house?,
I find myself wondering loudly,
And when the man I married comes back from caroussing,
He is shouting and demanding,
His food should be at the right temperature,
The sex in acrobatic positions,
This has to stop or I have to start living myself,

Help me my brothers and sisters,
I feel am being pushed to stray,
And tommorow my husband is going away with his friends,
And I have invited the garden boy over for a bottle of wine as a thank you,
Two years without while married is beyond anything,
My body tells me one thing,
While my mind says another,
What would you do because I think the garden boy is seen tell tale signs,
Should I? Would you? What if?,
Does any of you relate to this,
Or this is unique to my miserable life?