I
loved your beautiful face,
You
are pretty and attractive,
Will
you be my saving grace
Making
me more sensitive.
I
am down with being blue
Enduring
not nicely scoring
My
goal, as you sadly pursue
Misconceiving
my nice saving.
I
am a remedy not to ignore
As
I can be a welcome relief
From
you feeling sadly sore
From
suffering my mad grief.
Am
I a source of ambivalence
With
my sad trials of tribulation;
Will
you judge me with patience
Addressing
our sad separation.
I
was not my considerate-self
Wrapped
up in some distress,
I
was suffering mad ill-health –
Psychotically
under sad duress.
But
now I am perfectly well,
Not
suffering being insane,
I
was under a mad cursed spell –
Of
which I was not to blame.
You
were innocent of judgement,
And
I am now wisely back on track
From
my sad regrettable impairment
Of
not wanting your sweet-self back.
©
Andrew Stevenson 16/07/2017
An edited piece.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew.
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