One In Two

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Another one bites the dust,

And by another I mean marriage.

There's an inevitability about it, like rust,

On the creaky wheels of an old carriage.

So why be surprised about this news?

When statistically we know the score.

It happens to one in every two,

A partner decides they want more.

I thought this couple had the right attitude, 

Vow-bound for twenty-five years.

Thought they'd reached cruising altitude,

With their engines humming in low gear.

A notary and a stay-at-home mom,

Who delivered Meals-on-Wheels.

Two kids and a dog, fluffy as a pom-pom,

A suburban house with curb appeal.

They seemed to have it all,

By the standards we're taught to admire.

While behind closed doors and thick walls,

Whispering remorse of the buyer.

 

We talk, the wife and I, and look around,

At our neighbours and sometime-friends.

To gauge the happiness we think we've found, 

Before wondering when for us it must end.

We see in each other the well trod path -

Our climb uphill in sun and rain. 

Count our steps, do emotional math,

Feel, at times, like we're crate-trained.

Sure we each crave the freedom,

That comes from desires unleashed.  

To break the ordered calm,

To feel that sense of release.

  

But like an elastic that rebounds,

Or else it's bound to snap.

We eventually settle down,

To avoid a fatal mishap. 

Some contracts are written in glue,

Others on brittle autumn leaves. 

Your name is signed in me and mine in you,

At least that's what I believe.