It Never Was
The music played a sour note,
Though she hardly noticed;
An interlude from the turmoil inside.
Indeed, it was apparent,
Nothing felt as intricate as this moment.
When she saw the delicate manliness,
That appeared like an apparition of herself,
It must be real, or why would she feel this?
The ecstasy of his gesture and simple way of moving,
Left her vulnerable and sure this must be the one.
Distinctly, she heard another sour note,
And wondered inside, “Am I seeing it,
For what it is, or am I seeing it,
For what it never was?”
Love gave way and she felt sure inside.
Suddenly, the music turned wild,
As he gripped her in his embrace.
She no longer wanted love, but to run.
He tossed her like a rag doll into the air,
And she flew against a wall of despair.
She ran to her Father, “Wasn’t this love?”
He said, “No, my child, it never was.”