Here is a guest blog by Anne Kmit, a Las Vegas writer and poet.
All by herself, she shopped and bought the lacy white dress.
All by herself, she arranged a picnic meal for her few friends after the ceremony.
She had to because her mother said "You'll be sorry. I'm not going."
Her father said "Neither am I. He's a phony."
She knew in her heart that he was selfish and immature.
But she hoped, no, believed her love would change him.
He came an hour late to the chapel, tipsy.
She married him anyway, it was the beginning of the end.
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