Pick up the pieces of the petals threw
The bride and the groom ran like the wind blew
One had spoken up to why not to wed
Harsh words were spoken the vows never said
The accuser stood hat held in his hands
Before the groom left he threw him the bands
Chest heaving with tears the man held his head
Reached in his pocket then shot himself dead
Story was told later to those not there
Seems the accuser once had an affair
He kept it silent so as not to slur
He stood to tell all I am your father
© 2011 Michael Yost
Michael's Lair 