31 Hurtful Poems About Getting Cheated On for Him

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Here are my favorite poems about getting cheated on for him categorized:

  • Short poems about getting cheated on for him
  • Famous poems about being cheated on for him
  • Poems about cheating in a relationship for him

So if you want the best poems about getting cheated on for him, then you’re in the right place.

Let’s get started!

31 Hurtful Poems About Getting Cheated On for Him (+ My #1)
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Hurtful Poems About Getting Cheated On for Him

a sensual but melancholic woman sitting by the window

Discovering that someone you love has betrayed your trust is one of the most heart-wrenching experiences in life.

That is why the theme of betrayal has inspired numerous poets, allowing them to express the intense emotions linked to infidelity and being cheated on.

Together, let us delve into the themes of heartbreak, betrayal, and resilience as depicted in these memorable verses.

These soulful poems provide solace and comprehension to those who have endured similar ordeals.

Through the profound impact of words by poets who preceded us, may we find a cathartic release and discover a glimmer of hope for healing.

Let us begin!

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My #1 Favorite Poem About Getting Cheated On for Him

a young woman in a green dress is roaming in a flower field

“My Dear Mistress Has A Heart” by John Wilmot

My dear mistress has a heart
Soft as those kind looks she gave me,
When with love’s resistless art,
And her eyes, she did enslave me;
But her constancy’s so weak,
She’s so wild and apt to wander,
That my jealous heart would break
Should we live one day asunder.

Melting joys about her move,
Killing pleasures, wounding blisses;
She can dress her eyes in love,
And her lips can arm with kisses;
Angels listen when she speaks,
She’s my delight, all mankind’s wonder;
But my jealous heart would break
Should we live one day asunder.

Why “My Dear Mistress Has A Heart” Is My Favorite Poem About Getting Cheated On for Him

a sensual brunette lady with hair fluttering in the wind

This poem reminds me that indeed, all is fair in love and war.

“My Dear Mistress Has A Heart” shows us that both men and women are vulnerable and capable of hurting another when it comes to love relationships.

I like how Wilmot remains a gentleman and describes his lover in a tasteful manner while also subtly and delicately implying her tendencies and shortcomings.

In this world where feminism and activism thrive, I am reminded to always stay true to myself and my heart.

Ultimately, as long as we have given our best efforts in the relationship, there’s nothing to regret, regardless of the outcome.

Short Poems About Getting Cheated On for Him

a lovely brunette woman looking through trees with pink blossoms

When it comes to betrayal in love, where emotions collide and wounds run deep, these short poems unravel the rawness of being cheated on, capturing the tough journey of healing and self-discovery.

With every line, these verses invite you to embrace the pain, find solace, and ultimately emerge stronger from the shattered pieces of a broken trust.

Let’s begin!

a gorgeous woman in a red dress among the flowers

“Mistrust” by George William Russell

You look at me with wan, bright eyes
When in the deeper world I stray:
You fear some hidden ambush lies
In wait to call me, “Come away.”

What if I see behind the veil
Your starry self beseeching me,
Or at its stern command grow pale,
“Let her be free, let her be free”?

“Charging of His Love As Unpiteous and Loving Other” by Sir Thomas Wyatt

If amorous faith, or if a heart unfeigned,
A sweet langour, a great lovely desire,
If honest will kindled in gentle fire,
If long error in a blind maze chained,
If in my visage each thought distained,
Or if my sparkling voice, lower, or higher,
Which fear and shame so wofully doth tire;
If pale colour, which love, alas, hath stained,
If to have another than myself more dear,
If wailing or sighing continually,
With sorrowful anger feeding busily,
If burning far off, and if freezing near,
Are cause that I by love myself destroy,
Yours is the fault, and mine the great annoy.

“The Sin” by Margaret Steele Anderson

That haunting air had some far strain of it,
That morning rose hath flung it back to met
The wind of spring, the ancient, awful sea.
Bid me remember it.

And looking back against the look of Love,
I feel the old shame start again and sting;
Such eyes are Love’s they will not ask the thing,
But I remember it!

So this one dream of heaven I dare not dream:
We two in your familiar ways and high.
While you and God forget, and even I
Cannot remember it!

a sensual woman in a beautiful pink dress is relaxing on a couch

“False Though She Be” by William Congreve

False though she be to me and love,
I’ll ne’er pursue revenge;
For still the charmer I approve,
Though I deplore her change.

In hours of bliss we oft have met:
They could not always last;
And though the present I regret,
I’m grateful for the past.

“You Smiled, You Spoke, And I Believed” by Walter Savage Landor

You smiled, you spoke, and I believed,
By every word and smile deceived.
Another man would hope no more;
Nor hope I what I hoped before:
But let not this last wish be vain;
Deceive, deceive me once again!

“Godspeed” by Dorothy Parker

Oh, seek, my love, your newer way;
I’ll not be left in sorrow.
So long as I have yesterday,
Go take your damned to-morrow!

a beautiful and sensual woman smelling some flowers in summer outdoor

“A Dog After Love” by Yehuda Amichai

After you left me
I let a dog smell at
My chest and my belly. It will fill its nose
And set out to find you.

I hope it will tear the
Testicles of your lover and bite off his penis
Or at least
Will bring me your stockings between his teeth.

Famous Poems About Being Cheated On for Him

a sensual young couple among the pretty flowers

Let your emotions flow like a river as we explore one of the most poignant themes in the world of poetry — betrayal in love.

These famous verses, etched with the raw ache of being cheated on, resonate with every heartbeat and whisper the universal language of heartbreak.

Let’s jump in!

a woman in a blue dress laying down with eyes closed

“Song—The Last Time I Came O’er the Moor” by Robert Burns

The last time I came o’er the moor,
And left Maria’s dwelling,
What throes, what tortures passing cure,
Were in my bosom swelling:
Condemn’d to see my rival’s reign,
While I in secret languish;
To feel a fire in every vein,
Yet dare not speak my anguish.

Love’s veriest wretch, despairing, I
Fain, fain, my crime would cover;
Th’ unweeting groan, the bursting sigh,
Betray the guilty lover.
I know my doom must be despair,
Thou wilt nor canst relieve me;
But oh, Maria, hear my prayer,
For Pity’s sake forgive me!

The music of thy tongue I heard,
Nor wist while it enslav’d me;
I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear’d,
Till fear no more had sav’d me:
The unwary sailor thus, aghast,
The wheeling torrent viewing,
’Mid circling horrors yields at last
To overwhelming ruin.

“To an Inconstant One” by Sir Robert Ayton

I loved thee once; I’ll love no more—
Thine be the grief as is the blame;
Thou art not what thou wast before,
What reason I should be the same?

He that can love unloved again,
Hath better store of love than brain:
God send me love my debts to pay,
While unthrifts fool their love away!

Nothing could have my love o’erthrown
If thou hadst still continued mine;
Yea, if thou hadst remain’d thy own,
I might perchance have yet been thine.

But thou thy freedom didst recall
That it thou might elsewhere enthral:
And then how could I but disdain
A captive’s captive to remain?

When new desires had conquer’d thee
And changed the object of thy will,
It had been lethargy in me,
Not constancy, to love thee still.

Yea, it had been a sin to go
And prostitute affection so:
Since we are taught no prayers to say
To such as must to others pray.

Yet do thou glory in thy choice—
Thy choice of his good fortune boast;
I’ll neither grieve nor yet rejoice
To see him gain what I have lost:

The height of my disdain shall be
To laugh at him, to blush for thee;
To love thee still, but go no more
A-begging at a beggar’s door.

“The Other Woman” by Madison Julius Cawein

You have shut me out from your tears and grief
Over the man laid low and hoary.
Listen to me now: I am no thief!
You have shut me out from your tears and grief,
Listen to me, I will tell my story.

The love of a man is transitory.
What do you know of his past? the years
He gave to another his manhood’s glory?
The love of a man is transitory.
Listen to me now: open your ears.

Over the dead have done with tears!
Over the man who loved to madness
Me the woman you met with sneers,
Over the dead have done with tears!
Me the woman so sunk in badness.

He loved me ever, and that is gladness!
There by the dead now tell her so;
There by the dead where she bows in sadness.
He loved me ever, and that is gladness!
Mine the gladness and hers the woe.

The best of his life was mine. Now go,
Tell her this that her pride may perish,
Her with his name, his wife, you know!
The best of his life was mine. Now go,
Tell her this so she cease to cherish.

Bury him then with pomp and flourish!
Bury him now without my kiss!
Here is a thing for your hearts to nourish,–
Bury him then with pomp and flourish!
Bury him now I have told you this.

a woman in a dress standing in a field of flowers

“The Faithless Shepherdess” by Anonymous

While that the sun with his beams hot
Scorchèd the fruits in vale and mountain,
Philon the shepherd, late forgot,
Sitting beside a crystal fountain
In the shadow of a green oak tree,
Upon his pipe this song play’d he:
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.

So long as I was in your sight
I was your heart, your soul, your treasure;
And evermore you sobb’d and sigh’d
Burning in flames beyond all measure:
—Three days endured your love to me,
And it was lost in other three!
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.

Another shepherd you did see,
To whom your heart was soon enchainèd;
Full soon your love was leapt from me,
Full soon my place he had obtainèd.
Soon came a third your love to win,
And we were out and he was in.
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.

Sure you have made me passing glad
That you your mind so soon removèd,
Before that I the leisure had
To choose you for my best belovèd:
For all my love was pass’d and done
Two days before it was begun.
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.

“To An Old Friend In England” by Francis William Lauderdale Adams

Was it for nothing in the years gone by,
O my love, O my friend,
You thrilled me with your noble words of faith? –
Hope beyond life, and love, love beyond death!
Yet now I shudder, and yet you did not die,
O my friend, O my love!

Was it for nothing in the dear dead years,
O my love, O my friend,
I kissed you when you wrung my heart from me,
And gave my stubborn hand where trust might be?
Yet then I smiled, and see, these bitter tears,
O my friend, O my love!

No bitter words to say to you have I,
O my love, O my friend!
That faith, that hope, that love was mine, not yours!
And yet that kiss, that clasp endures, endures.
I have no bitter words to say. Good-bye,
O my friend, O my love!

“To My Inconstant Mistress” by Thomas Carew

When thou, poor excommunicate
From all the joys of love, shalt see
The full reward and glorious fate
Which my strong faith shall purchase me,
Then curse thine own inconstancy.

A fairer hand than thine shall cure
That heart, which thy false oaths did wound;
And to my soul a soul more pure
Than thine shall by Love’s hand be bound,
And both with equal glory crown’d.

Then shalt thou weep, entreat, complain
To Love, as I did once to thee;
When all thy tears shall be as vain
As mine were then, for thou shalt be
Damn’d for thy false apostasy.

a sensual woman in red laying down amongst red flowers

“To Woman” by George Gordon Byron

Woman! experience might have told me
That all must love thee who behold thee;
Surely experience might have taught
Thy firmest promises are naught;
But, placed in all thy charms before me,
All I forget, but to adore thee.
Oh, Memory! thou choicest blessing,
When joined with hope, when still possessing;
But how much cursed by every lover,
When hope is fled, and passion’s over!
Woman, that fair and fond deceiver,
How prompt are striplings to believe her!
How throbs the pulse when first we view
The eye that rolls in glossy blue,
Or sparkles black, or mildly throws
A beam from under hazel brows!
How quick we credit every oath,
And hear her plight the willing troth!
Fondly we hope ‘ twill last for aye,
When, lo ! she changes in a day.
This record will forever stand,
“Woman, thy vows are traced in sand.”

“Minstrel Man” by Langston Hughes

Because my mouth
Is wide with laughter
And my throat
Is deep with song,
You do not think
I suffer after
I have held my pain
So long.

Because my mouth
Is wide with laughter,
You do not hear
My inner cry,
Because my feet
Are gay with dancing,
You do not know
I die.

“Never Give All The Heart” by William Butler Yeats

Never give all the heart, for love
Will hardly seem worth thinking of
To passionate women, if it seem
Certain, and they never dream
That it fades out from kiss to kiss;
For everything that’s lovely is
But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.
O never give the heart outright
For they, for all smooth lips can say,
Have given their hearts up to the play,
And who can play it well enough
If deaf and dumb and blind with love?
He that made this knows all the cost,
For he gave all his heart and lost.

a sad lady in black indoors

“Last Words to Miriam” by D. H. Lawrence

Yours is the shame and sorrow
But the disgrace is mine;
Your love was dark and thorough,
Mine was the love of the sun for a flower
He creates with his shine.

I was diligent to explore you,
Blossom you stalk by stalk,
Till my fire of creation bore you
Shrivelling down in the final dour
Anguish—then I suffered a balk.

I knew your pain, and it broke
My fine, craftsman’s nerve;
Your body quailed at my stroke,
And my courage failed to give you the last
Fine torture you did deserve.

You are shapely, you are adorned,
But opaque and dull in the flesh,
Who, had I but pierced with the thorned
Fire-threshing anguish, were fused and cast
In a lovely illumined mesh.

Like a painted window: the best
Suffering burnt through your flesh,
Undressed it and left it blest
With a quivering sweet wisdom of grace: but now
Who shall take you afresh?

Now who will burn you free,
From your body’s terrors and dross,
Since the fire has failed in me?
What man will stoop in your flesh to plough
The shrieking cross?

A mute, nearly beautiful thing
Is your face, that fills me with shame
As I see it hardening,
Warping the perfect image of God,
And darkening my eternal fame.

Poems About Cheating in a Relationship for Him

a young woman in a red sensual dress is lying on the red flowers

Within the realm of poetic expression, the concept of unfaithfulness serves as a captivating source of inspiration.

These poems delve into the intricate dynamics of infidelity within relationships and offer a profound examination of love’s darker sides, resonating with many of us.

Keep reading!

a sad but pretty woman with a wreath of flowers on her head stands in the field

“Love” by Nicholas Breton

Foolish love is only folly;
Wanton love is too unholy;
Greedy love is covetous;
Idle love is frivolous;
But the gracious love is it
That doth prove the work of it.

Beauty but deceives the eye;
Flattery leads the ear awry;
Wealth doth but enchant the wit;
Want, the overthrow of it;
While in Wisdom’s worthy grace,
Virtue sees the sweetest face.

There hath Love found out his life,
Peace without all thought of strife;
Kindness in Discretion’s care;
Truth, that clearly doth declare
Faith doth in true fancy prove,
Lust the excrements of Love.

Then in faith may fancy see
How my love may constru’d be;
How it grows and what it seeks;
How it lives and what it likes;
So in highest grace regard it,
Or in lowest scorn discard it.

“Forgiveness” by John Greenleaf Whittier

My heart was heavy, for its trust had been
Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong;
So, turning gloomily from my fellow-men,
One summer Sabbath day I strolled among
The green mounds of the village burial-place;
Where, pondering how all human love and hate
Find one sad level; and how, soon or late,
Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened face,
And cold hands folded over a still heart,
Pass the green threshold of our common grave,
Whither all footsteps tend, whence none depart,
Awed for myself, and pitying my race,
Our common sorrow, like a mighty wave,
Swept all my pride away, and trembling I forgave!

“Begging Another” by Ben Jonson

For Love’s sake, kiss me once again!
I long, and should not beg in vain.
Here’s none to spy, or see;
Why do you doubt or stay?
I’ll taste as lightly as the bee,
That doth but touch his flower, and flies away.

Once more, and, faith, I will be gone,
Can he that loves ask less than one?
Nay, you may err in this,
And all your bounty wrong:
This could be call’d but half a kiss;
What we’re but once to do, we should do long.

I will but mend the last, and tell
Where, how, it would have relish’d well
Join lip to lip, and try:
Each suck the other’s breath,
And whilst our tongues perplexed lie,
Let who will think us dead, or wish our death.

a mysterious and enchanting red haired woman in the woods

“A Woman’s Shortcomings” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

She has laughed as softly as if she sighed ,
She has counted six, and over,
Of a purse well filled , and a heart well tried—
Oh, each a worthy lover!
They “give her time”; for her soul must slip
Where the world has set the grooving;
She will lie to none with her fair red lip:
But love seeks truer loving.

She trembles her fan in a sweetness dumb,
As her thoughts were beyond recalling;
With a glance for one, and a glance for some,
From her eyelids rising and falling;
Speaks common words with a blushful air,
Hears bold words, unreproving;
But her silence says—what she never will swear—
And love seeks better loving.

Go, lady! lean to the night-guitar,
And drop a smile to the bringer;
Then smile as sweetly, when he is far,
At the voice of an in-door singer.
Bask tenderly beneath tender eyes;
Glance lightly, on their removing;
And join new vows to old perjuries
But dare not call it loving!

Unless you can think, when the song is done,
No other is soft in the rhythm;
Unless you can feel, when left by One,
That all men else go with him;
Unless you can know, when upraised by his breath,
That your beauty itself wants proving;
Unless you can swear “For life, for death!”—
Oh, fear to call it loving!

Unless you can muse in a crowd all day
On the absent face that fixed you;
Unless you can love, as the angels may,
With the breadth of heaven betwixt you;
Unless you can dream that his faith is fast,
Through behoving and unbehoving;
Unless you can die when the dream is past—
Oh, never call it loving!

“Song” by Walter Savage Landor

Often I have heard it said
That her lips are ruby-red.
Little heed I what they say,
I have seen as red as they.
Ere she smiled on other men,
Real rubies were they then.

When she kissed me once in play,
Rubies were less bright than they,
And less bright than those which shone
In the palace of the Sun.
Will they be as bright again?
Not if kissed by other men.

“Make Believe” by Alice Cary

Kiss me, though you make believe;
Kiss me, though I almost know
You are kissing to deceive:
Let the tide one moment flow
Backward ere it rise and break,
Only for poor pity’s sake!

Give me of your flowers one leaf,
Give me of your smiles one smile,
Backward roll this tide of grief
Just a moment, though, the while,
I should feel and almost know
You are trifling with my woe.

Whisper to me sweet and low;
Tell me how you sit and weave
Dreams about me, though I know
It is only make believe!
Just a moment, though ’tis plain
You are jesting with my pain.

a beautiful young retro woman lying on the bed and holding a bouquet of flowers

“Snowdrop” by William Wetmore Story

When, full of warm and eager love,
I clasp you in my fond embrace,
You gently push me back and say,
“Take care, my dear, you’ll spoil my lace.”

You kiss me just as you would kiss
Some woman friend you chanced to see;
You call me “dearest. “-All love’s forms
Are yours, not its reality.

Oh, Annie! cry, and storm, and rave!
Do anything with passion in it!
Hate me an hour, and then turn round
And love me truly, just one minute.

“Along The Fields As We Came By” by Alfred Edward Housman

Along the field as we came by
A year ago, my love and I,
The aspen over stile and stone
Was talking to itself alone.
“Oh, who are these that kiss and pass?
A country lover and his lass;
Two lovers looking to be wed;
And time shall put them both to bed,
But she shall lie with earth above,
And he beside another love.”

And sure enough beneath the tree
There walks another love with me,
And overhead the aspen heaves
Its rainy-sounding silver leaves;
And I spell nothing in their stir,
But now perhaps they speak to her,
And plain for her to understand
They talk about a time at hand
When I shall sleep with clover clad,
And she beside another lad.

“I Shall Come Back” by Dorothy Parker

I shall come back without fanfaronade
Of wailing wind and graveyard panoply;
But, trembling, slip from cool Eternity—
A mild and most bewildered little shade.
I shall not make sepulchral midnight raid,
But softly come where I had longed to be
In April twilight’s unsung melody,
And I, not you, shall be the one afraid.

Strange, that from lovely dreamings of the dead
I shall come back to you, who hurt me most.
You may not feel my hand upon your head,
I’ll be so new and inexpert a ghost.
Perhaps you will not know that I am near,—
And that will break my ghostly heart, my dear.

a gentle young woman next to a sakura tree

“If You Should Go” by Countee Cullen

Love, leave me like the light,
The gently passing day;
We would not know, but for the night,
When it has slipped away.

So many hopes have fled,
Have left me but the name
Of what they were. When love is dead,
Go thou, beloved, the same.

Go quietly; a dream
When done, should leave no trace
That it has lived, except a gleam
Across the dreamer’s face.

“False, but Beautiful” by John Rollin Ridge

Dark as a demon’s dream is one I love—
In soul—but oh, how beautiful in form!
She glows like Venus throned in joy above,
Or on the crimson couch of Evening warm
Reposing her sweet limbs, her heaving breast
Unveiled to him who lights the golden west!
Ah, me, to be by that soft hand carest,
To feel the twining of that snowy arm,
To drink that sigh with richest love opprest,
To bathe within that sunny sea of smiles,
To wander in that wilderness of wiles
And blissful blandishments—it is to thrill
With subtle poison, and to feel the will
Grow weak in that which all the veins doth fill.
Fair sorceress! I know she spreads a net
The strong, the just, the brave to snare; and yet
My soul cannot, for its own sake, forget
The fascinating glance which flings its chain
Around my quivering heart and throbbing brain,
And binds me to my painful destiny,
As bird, that soars no more on high,
Hangs trembling on the serpent’s doomful eye.

“An Old Memory” by Paul Laurence Dunbar

How sweet the music sounded
That summer long ago,
When you were by my side, love,
To list its gentle flow.

I saw your eyes a-shining,
I felt your rippling hair,
I kissed your pearly cheek, love,
And had no thought of care.

And gay or sad the music,
With subtle charm replete;
I found in after years, love
‘Twas you that made it sweet.

For standing where we heard it,
I hear again the strain;
It wakes my heart, but thrills it
With sad, mysterious pain.

It pulses not so joyous
As when you stood with me,
And hand in hand we listened
To that low melody.

Oh, could the years turn back, love!
Oh, could events be changed
To what they were that time, love,
Before we were estranged;

Wert thou once more a maiden
Whose smile was gold to me;
Were I once more the lover
Whose word was life to thee,–

O God! could all be altered,
The pain, the grief, the strife,
And wert thou–as thou shouldst be–
My true and loyal wife!

But all my tears are idle,
And all my wishes vain.
What once you were to me, love,
You may not be again.

For I, alas! like others,
Have missed my dearest aim.
I asked for love. Oh, mockery!
Fate comes to me with fame!

a woman with a soft dress and contemplative expression in a romantic countryside

“Without Ceremony” by Thomas Hardy

It was your way, my dear,
To be gone without a word
When callers, friends, or kin
Had left, and I hastened in
To rejoin you, as I inferred.

And when you’d a mind to career
Off anywhere say to town –
You were all on a sudden gone
Before I had thought thereon,
Or noticed your trunks were down.

So, now that you disappear
For ever in that swift style,
Your meaning seems to me
Just as it used to be:
“Good-bye is not worth while!”