I’d have given myself to thee
If I had had myself to give;
But I found you before I found me
When still I had very little to give.
Forget that shell you once loved,
Whose rumbling of emptiness inside
Was all you heard from your beloved,
Killing your feelings as surely as cyanide,
While you so longed only for intimacy –
A hug, a kiss and a three-worded whisper.
Folly, like love, on its victims has no mercy
And the end often is this here type of whimper;
After a man, aged and wiser, recalls his past,
Realizing he might’ve done better at every turn
Is left wondering why time must go so fast,
That no man can go back, correct, then return.
Do believe I meant to give myself to thee
Only to learn I had not myself to give
‘cos I found you before I found me;
Now for the pains I caused, pray do forgive.