Your Gallant Guile

In vain I hope and in vain I smile

Ever-bewitched by your gallant guile.

I spy you with eyeballs ballooned and swollen,

For love is unfair and desire is stolen.

I have been beaten; I’m less good; I’m useless,

Indolent, incompetent, futile and fruitless.

My liberal offering you cast away;

You couldn't imagine what I now have to pay

For your own lust for ‘beauty’ or weak compliance,

For exists—and not with I—a cursed alliance,

Which I watch, unjealous, and oddly bemused

By the simple suspicion that I have been used.

The End

133 comments about this poem Feed