In the writers’ group I attend ( we were asked to write a poem on the subject of “illusion”. Here’s what I wrote:

He said that he would love her

And promised he would care

But every night she was alone

She didn’t go anywhere.

He said he would stand by her

With her he’d always be

All she wanted was four little words

“Will you marry me?”

She sat and waited for his calls

He said he’d soon be free

But then he didn’t call at all

And home alone she’d be.

She told him of her feelings

Said she loved him more than life

He answered with a letter

“I cannot leave my wife.”

She never went out, the neighbours said

When her body was found months later

We can’t understand who would do this

There’s no one we know who would hate her.

The police asked if there was a man involved

She was always alone, they said

We never saw her with anyone

We think she just stayed in bed.

Did she ever have a boyfriend?

Had she even ever been kissed?

Maybe he was just an illusion

And there never had been a tryst.

It made the newspaper headlines

She had lain dead for so long

No one had reported her missing

Everyone said that was wrong.

It filled all the gossip columns

Was it murder or suicide?

Why would a woman take her life

Dressed up like a bride?

*Title is a line from Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen

© Andrea Neidle, My Life in Poems