A short poem on arrogance and the price paid in terms of lost love


Lost Love

I stand at my window
Watching her from across the road
Deftly move around the mom and pop store
Each customer that she serves
Touches in me a raw nerve
Had I been a bit less chauvinistic
I would not have lost my beloved little mystic.
She has now to work for a livelihood
Her pride would never have withstood
My arrogance and my family's haughty gaze
Directed at her humble origins and simple ways.



Poetry by Sandra Martyres
Read 303 times
Written on 2007-09-18 at 04:09

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