I care what beauty likes,
And what beauty likes is hate,
For when beauty finally loves
Liking is too late.
Beauty noticed long ago:
The standards of beauty are severe.
I kiss her, I kneel before her;
But beauty loves distantly; she doesn’t love what’s here.
Beauty made me jealous;
I was blinded by my fire,
A flame she loved too much:
Shame overtook desire.
Now what can she say
To family and friends:
Here is my life
And here is where it ends?
Our love was not heroic.
It’s easy to be distracted:
This is why she erred,
And why I reacted.
