By Krissy Bradley

Do you love me still?

Could you fix the drafty door?

He replies, not today dear, but soon I will

I’d rather play black jack down the hill

I’ll wait to do that chore

Do you love me still?

I rake the leaves alone in the autumn chill

I know I have to clean that filthy floor

I think, not today, but soon I will

Do those hum-drum chores, just give me a pill

To escape disappointment, my life such a bore

Do you even love me still?

I realize now I don’t feel any ill-will

Just monotony behind a closed door

I reply, not today dear, but soon I will

Winter melts and spring’s blooms will fill

The void, c’mon we both know the score

Do you love me still?

He replies, not today dear, but soon I will