At last I see that I may breathe,
The air which well adores you.
At last, my months of hopeless longing,
Have ended in the seemingly proper destination.
I give my good luck a standing ovation.
But as the smoke clears,
And the sweetness in my heart,
Is quick to wear off,
I see I may have been mistaken.
Your eyes are not like sunshine;
They gaze and see right past me.
Your demeanor isn’t charming;
It’s childish and bombastic.
And all the pretty blonde hair,
Can never make up,
For lack of substance under there.
Maybe I’m insane for sharing,
My poetry, my time, my thoughts with you.
Maybe fate’s a silly creature,
And it’s time I got a clue.