My love was sturdy as a rock.
Held steady as an artist’s hand.
But time has aged and winds have changed
my rocky love to sand.
Don’t see me now through salty eyes;
those tears, they hold no pity,
not least until the icy chill
of lovelessness allows thee.
As sure as sunrise, come the morn,
I’ll gain a new obsession.
Detest me not, have you forgot
my need for true affection?
I’m cursed by need for complication,
life and love alike.
I’m fuelled by need for admiration.
Pity who I strike.