Tuesday, June 23, 2009


He was the love of her life,
She thought of him every hour of every day,
Her heart was his door mat
Her soul was his slave.

His sweet nothings were her everything,
His promises were her future,
When she gazed into his eyes she saw her life,
Her life was their life,
His life was his life.

Everything she did was for his pleasure,
Her body was his play field,
His love was her ocean.
He was her world
She was his whore.

What should have been absolute bliss
Became her nightmare.
With every punch her love died,
With every kick her future faded,
Her love became her prison.

Slowly she watches her life slip away,
The person she was
Was nothing compared,
To the shell she became.

A brave smile did she put for the world,
But inside the rose garden was dead,
Her bed of roses,
Was her bed of thorns.

A Poem by Thelma Migue.


  1. This is for all the women and men who are taken for granted by their partners or lovers in relationships.It is also for the battered spouses....emotionally, mentally and physically.......

  2. Interestin read. U'll be amazed at how some people take advantage of others who love them when they realize they can get away with it.

  3. Sometimes we allow people to take advantage of our love because we think they love us or we can't do without their love.......when in reality it is corroding us killing our self esteem and when we finally get the will to walk out, we are a shell of what we once were. It is so sad how we let people control us. Some are unfortunate they never get the chance to walk out of that abusive relationship, heal and tell the story - they walk out in a coffin.