You were my inspiration, my muse, my song. ‘Till feelings of doubt and regret came along. Regret of the future, not yet passed, And doubt of the present, the doubt it would last. The feeling one has, when one finds ones friend, to a woman, is over come and twisted round the bend. For women seek security, companionship and love, when all they need is friendship, pure as a dove. I realised too late, that’s what I craved, And I begged hopelessly, that it could be saved. I felt trapped, and scared, I loved you too much, but I didn’t feel right, with the way that you touched. I needed a friend, I turned you a foe, I tried to push you away, but I loved you so. Do not think I felt, I wasted time in vain, but I should have talked to you, taken time to complain.
Oh, The things people can say to you, or even write, or do, can make you realise, how much you miss being you. You change for others without your consent, then realise your actions and rise to repent. Thank you hun, for that poem you wrote, I read it and cried, and to myself I do smote. I did not realise what I had done to you, nor seen the reaction of the things I could do. I send this to you now, as a act of apology true, And hope you can come to forgive me for always loving you. I write this in poem, as it is easier to say, consider my words, and be free, for today.