With a head full of wine
he was often inclined
to tell her the truth
about her fading youth

Using words as guns
he projected from his lungs
fired from the hips
let insults pass his lips

In the end she had enough
found the courage to head off
made a life somewhere else
left him to consider himself

He studied his reflection
his greying complexion
what he saw in the mirror
filled him with horror

He realised it all too late
the destruction
of misdirected hate