Fishing (Prose)

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how did it begin? Coloured sparkling trinkets
bait that hypnotised I fell hook line and
sank into your arms
So long ago it seems when flowers decorated vases
extravagant diamond fingers stroked satin sheets
swept up from street corners
$‘s slipped into fish-nets
knowing I was an easy catch
your shiny limo slowed, you in your tux
debonaire high roller
what happened

I‘m not paraded on your arm these days
clinking glasses with the elite
Designer gowns,  intro’s to your colleagues
emeralds round my neck shone brightly once
your Polo trophy takes pride of place
are you bored now with this showpiece
alone, I hear a woman laugh
velvet boxes empty on the dresser
another trinket ~ another lure
Someone to replace what I was
I fade into obscurity, yes
you have been the death of me

©jmtacken Oct 18 2013

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18 thoughts on “Fishing (Prose)

  1. It’s sad that sometimes wives, husbands, significant others…. are merely trophies for one another to display or parade around. I love how you weaved in that to feed their hungry soul another trinket is dangled before them…string them along a little longer. Tragic but so well expressed.

  2. Yes, I think especially in the world of the ‘rich and famous’ this would occur more often. Thank you for liking it Beck – probably others writers would have gone a different direction with the pic – I found it intriguing and this is what sprung forth. xx

  3. Yikes of being treated and discarded like that ~ Its a vicious cycle and I hope she gets out of that toxic relationship too ~ Good one ~ Happy weekend ~

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