The unrest that you brought, was unexpected
upsetting in my quiet way of life,
as unknown passion then on me reflected
while I was not your mistress, nor your wife.
It lasted longer than it should have been
in stolen nights and hotel rooms with dirt.
So desperate you tried to be unseen
that this could only end in final hurt.
Now you live far away from me in France
and I am very happy with this other.
So why you phoned me late that night in trance
I do not want to know, I cannot bother.
Secret loves should end and never linger
when there can’t be a ring on someone’s finger.
I wrote another rather judgemental poem on this subject:
You are deceiving in the name of love,
soon hurting someone who is unaware.
Maybe your conscious is not kind enough
or maybe about him you just don’t care.
You meet, in full excitement have your fling
while he is at his work thinking of you.
How can you think it is a splendid thing
when everything you are is now untrue?
I won’t tell, I know I shouldn’t judge you
but everything about your love is fake.
Look, when he’s free, he’ll find a love that’s true
as I do hope he will, just for his sake.
Love can be great, but when a lie to keep
it is just that, and never will be deep.
Awful, as I do think like this, more or less, and I don’t want to. Odd. 🙂 The only consolation I have, is that in real life, I never act on such judgemental-ness. But still.