Somber Under the Rainbow (pt3)

3.
Thunder echoes through the clouds
As I stare at the backyard
Shrouded in darkness.
Gripped tightly in my left hand
A half empty bottle
Of Johnny Walker red label,
The best friend a man could have.
In the right, the Colt .45
My Dad gave me when I was 16.
A car would’ve been great at that age,
But my old man was a firm
Believer of learning
To protect your family.
Who would’ve thought that 20 years later,
That birthday gift would be
My final un-doing.
I can smell the rain on the wind,
But the foul smell of death
Still clogs up my nostrils.
Their blood, now dried,
Paints polka-dots across my body.
Why would she do this to me?
How could she?
After 12 years of marriage,
Of me being faithful,
Of treating her like a queen,
This is how she thanks me…
By bringing home a man
And fucking him in our bed!
She should’ve just cut
The heart out of my chest,
Since I don’t need it anymore.
She got what she deserved,
Who knows how long she’s been
Whoring around on me.
Guess I’ll never know,
Guess I’ll just sit on these old wooden steps,
The empty shell of a man that I am.
I should just finish the job
And scatter my brains across the yard.
But could a man with no heart really die?
And would I want to re-unite
With that cheating whore so soon?
I’d rather just sit here in the rain
And rust away for eternity.