The Hate He Felt For Me

 

If I had known that he cared not for me

I would have dropped him, like a burning stone

Too blinded I, by silly love, to see

The hatred that he bore me to the bone

If I had seen beyond his wit, and charm

I could have passed him by upon the street

Protected heart from hurt, and pride from harm

Refrained from falling, fawning, at his feet

I should have sensed the loathing in his touch

The cold resentment in his blood and bile

Too lost was I, in silly love, too much

To see the silent scorn behind his smile

Now he is gone, and I shall ever be

Astounded by the hate he felt for me

 

by Gail

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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