in the midst of the little shadow she created,
from her honest beliefs it began to spill,
it would not stop, she could not grasp,
she was back to square one again, despite bliss.
why did it have to be a cut of 3/4,
why couldn’t it be 1/2?
did he not comprehend that it was as easy as that?
the taradiddle that might have been kept away has always been known,
nothing can ever be swept beneath the rug,
it will eventually be uncovered.
much to disappoint him, it was never swept beneath,
she knew all along.
how must it all be solved,
amidst all that is pure bliss, why now?
it can never really end,
but it can.
“not yet”, she begged. “not for a little while more”.
but never was she heard.