And I Gave Me For A Song

Tonight I lay awake doing battle with an aching heart
I am a sand castle battered by the storms and all my sides are coming off, unglued.
My heart, chiseled out of shape by pain.

Time and its magical prowess,
Turned a cocksure prince to a mullish bigot.
I beheld you in that moment of shallow-mindedness and thought to me,
This is good stuff.
And I, an eager-beaver
Squirmed all night
In my skirt for your touch.

But morning came, sure as dawn and you rolled over, feigning your snores.
You feigned, you feigned, lying too stiffly to be asleep. I spoke to you softly but your reply came off like one whose caught hair between his teeth.
Your carefully picked words neutered my resolve to love you.

And I knew,
Like I always do,
That I just gave me for a song.


  1. Ucheoma, my dear Ucheoma; you do me mighty proud! Beautiful as usual.

  2. A painful case of all that glitters is not gold?


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