Sometimes I try to make some sense
Of all the lies you told;
Or sit a while with head in hands
And spin my band of gold.
The thoughts that surface daily thence
Continue to unfold
Until the strength which life demands
Begins to lose its hold.
You sent me once a pledge of love,
Not really pleasing me,
But rather boosting selfish pride,
So I could not be free.
Your voice was gentle as a dove,
But stung as of a bee.
When you assumed I’d be your bride,
I should have kept the key.