Whence True Love
A white haired lady sits front of mirror
She tears somewhat in the eye
She picks up a handle to brush the hair
That fate has thinned and vilified
She cries thinking just this thing,
He will not find me now.
No, I have waited too long in years
My true love will not find me now.
I've wasted my love and these tears
On braggarts and rascals and wastels.
No, not now, he would not love me now;
If he could find me, if somehow but how?
I married the wrong man in my youth
Then corrected it but then,
Do you want the truth?
She whispered, the next one was the same.
No, my true love will never come
No, not now, he will never come to tame
The heart that still yearns for him
At every turn, and I am to blame.
Tired, and so tired, I say, everyday,
It comes closer to me, so that sometimes
I just pray to get it over with,
As my true love has gone away.
Copyright © Anita Shirk | Year Posted 2006
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