The Hate He Felt For Me
If I had known that he cared not for me
I would have dropped him, like a burning stone
Too blinded I, by silly love, to see
The hatred that he bore me to the bone
If I had seen beyond his wit, and charm
I could have passed him by upon the street
Protected heart from hurt, and pride from harm
Refrained from falling, fawning, at his feet
I should have sensed the loathing in his touch
The cold resentment in his blood and bile
Too lost was I, in silly love, too much
To see the silent scorn behind his smile
Now he is gone, and I shall ever be
Astounded by the hate he felt for me
by Gail
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