How oft have I been subject to thy face, or forced to simmer in constraining will, assuming only you could ever fill my soul or hold my lonely heart in place? Devoutly seeking thee- a holy chase, thy visage fair, invoked an inner thrill, to hear thy soothing voice, the world was still; O, how I weakly longed for thine embrace. Yet when did wet infatuation dry? It drained as swift and soundless as it came. And now I know the time it took to sigh- I wish I could, the wasted time, reclaim. So now I turn to life, uncovered eye, and from thy sordid, melancholy game.
Reason for writing:
I wrote this poem because I wanted to see how many girls would get ticked-off at me for writing it.
Birth sign: Not entered
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