The Price of Happiness
By Frederick J. Blahnik
Peaceful forenoon, April the first.
The sun’s busy climbing, tulips ready to burst.
The robins are out hunting, yet take time out for singing.
I’m alone in my room……the telephone is ringing.
Why did it happen?
Especially to me.
She was all I ever had; all I ever wanted to be.
We were going to be married, soon to be my wife.
For once I’d be happy, and for the rest of my life.
Now I sit staring, feeling nothing but numb.
They insist she felt no pain; happened all of a sudden.
But I’ll feel enough for both of us when she goes in the ground.
Lord, what’s left to live for when she’s not around?
The clouds are advancing, overtaking the sun.
The birds’ve fallen silent, the wind’s starting to run.
Yesterday was perfect, but today I’m in Hell.
Lord, what’s left to live for when she’s not there to tell?
The phone is still ringing, it’s getting louder and shriller.
Outside rain begins pattering…….inside stalks a killer.
Fred's Soapbox 