Distracted by the lovely women,
I remember her fingers soft,
Caressing nature,
I remember heart breaking,
Emptiness and this void vagueness,
A giving up, a giving in,
letting go of pain,
I have found few girls worth the risk,
In many years of rain.
Instead I relieve the past loves,
Hearts who've disappeared,
For most, they never loved me,
Only I, who did love them.
I never told them really,
But I wholly told my pen,
Who then whispered into paper,
All my secrets; all my dreams:
Entrusted through my confidence,
He'd betrayed me! Or so it seems.