Was it morals or misunderstanding?
I see you coming in for a landing
But always missing.
You liked her, but there wasn’t any kissing.
They would stop you in the street
Or they would agree to meet
If you asked, but you hardly tried.
You judged and hid what you thought inside—
As wildly negative body language betrayed
The docile egotist that you were.
You thought you were better than her.
Your standards were so high
The muse passed you by.
She could have helped you, but you
Knew you were lonely and you knew your loneliness was true.
You defined yourself as so much better
So that even towards yourself you were bitter.
And when you forgave yourself, at last,
You struggled in bad poems to understand the past.
You could have loved the one you wanted
Had you not hated everyone you wanted.
Both beautiful and ugly, you didn’t see
The one you wanted was the one writing this poem—oh God it’s me.