Thunder booms, shaking the roof
Of our turn of the century saltbox home
The sky is gray and dismal
Yet the irony of the warm lit interior
Plays with my mind
Our dreams were in this home
The hopes we had for our future
The children we would raise
Two boys and a girl
Who sit parked in front of Sponge Bob
While our lives fall down around us
Shattered are the memories
Pierced by the image of
The dark haired woman
That I saw him 
Tenderly touch
Then lean in for a hug
Future? What is that? 
I no longer know
Taking care of the children
Trying to put on a brave face
Home cooked meals traded in for frozen dinners 
I laugh at how ironic my life has truly become
He's "in love" 
Because obviously what we had was just a game
The children we had were created in the moment
Not born from love
How can he throw it all away
I wonder
My tears slide down my face
As the clouds break free 
With rain