It's been long
since I've been wrong.
I'll admit
that I'd quit.
Why do I write
if I've done right?
Wouldn't go down
through the town.
Where's the love
that was above?
From the hill
just to spill.
Times that pass
didn't last.
I was a glare
just to spare.
Didn't show
I was a glow.
Don't remind
that I was blind.
The flirt
was a dirt.
This state of mind
isn't kind.
When I'm hurt,
you divert.
Why cry
without a goodbye?
What's not enough
when it's rough?
Was it magic
or tragic?
It wouldn't fade
with a shade.
I repeat
to fleet.
Too confusing
to be musing.
Just pretend
and amend.
Was there a Cupid
or music?
This space
led a trace.
Was I visible,
or invisible?
BY: Chantal (Blythe) Camus
