Chapel Hill, NC
I loved the way you were with me,
A girl of nineteen, trying to be
You were never a woman, not to me.
Your warm brown eyes were almost worthy,
And your soft brown hair
And cold skin, your mute soul- subtle mockeries,
Impurities taking away the fresh air.
Donít act surprised, itís not your nature to disguise
(By means of vacant sighs, and soft-spoken replies)
Satisfaction at my demise-
Iím just biding my time, right now.
Iíve come to expect this from your kind,
The phony fake song you would sing to one
Much more naÔve than I.
You floated into my room when the smoke was here:
It came in black clouds all around you;
I should have realized
You were not really as I found you to be.
But now I see what was behind your coveting
Of the young heart that once
belonged to me.
It has gone away now;
I donít miss it very much.
And now is not the time to find
The reason in your contrived rhyme;
Yesterday was fine,
Back then there was more time.
c. August, 2000 by DEM
[This message has been edited by Elliott (edited 04-07-2000).]