Philip H., a LifeRing convenor in Belfast, Northern Ireland, wrote this chilling poem about his late former wife:

Powerlessness

Two dead mice.

One fresh, one slowly desiccating. Its head chewed, eyeless.

A new lock on the dingy door and new keys.

Inside the wooden floor was covered in something dark, like tar.

A chair upended.

Bottles, more bottles, one open, musty smell.

An expensive wine glass with some wine left.

Defiance and style to the end.

Hmmmm