They Say

It was for love,
You know.

Tina Stone, she
Heard them.
Right through the
Ceiling.

She said there
Was a row
Such as she'd
Never heard,
She said.

And they found the mirror
Smashed.

And money gone
From Mrs Jones'
Purse.

And post unopened
On the
Sideboard.

I heard he ripped
The hinges from the gate.

Molly saw her
Crying at the window
With her lipstick
Smudged.

It was red.

But what a shame
They left her.
Poor girl,
What thoughts she
Must have had,
Alone,
With him gone
Like that.

There was blood upon
The pillow
And an eyelash
Loose upon her
Cheek.

She held a pen
And left us
All to guess
What it would
Write.

It was for love,
No doubt.

Do you think
You could?

No, dear, no.
Not for the likes
Of him, dear,
No.

But for love?

There's no love
Worth it, I should
say.

They found the
Paper on the
Floor beside the
Bed.

Lying there.

Perhaps she changed
Her mind
Too late
And no one
Came.

She could have
Called out, dear.

Perhaps it
Was for love
After all, d'you think?