It’s apparent I’m replaceable. At least it is the shout
that you moved in my replacement as soon as I moved out.
I hope that you remember as you stroll down your new path
that your former roadway contains an aftermath.
The heirlooms of our marriage include three children who
don’t share my intention of divorcing you.
They need a proper father and you’re the only one
licensed to address them as daughter and as son.
On the heirloom ring you gave me on our wedding night,
the chimera of your family crest really wasn’t quite
appropriate, though made of gold polished shiny bright,
An ass head on a serpent’s body would have got it right!
(I know gold isn’t supposed to tarnish, but apparently it sometimes does. Perhaps it wasn’t authentic in the first place?)