Fiddle... Poem by Nestor David Armas

She played me like a fiddle;

Tuned into my thoughts and dreams,

Read me like an open dictionary;

Knew how to solve the riddle,

And so it seems;

She was nothing revolutionary,

Just another pretty face;

Gone almost without a trace,

Leaving me in wondering;

Sitting and pondering,

How will I ever solve this puzzle;

But I must return to my hustle,

What keeps me grounded;

While all others are dumbfounded,

I keep my head clear;

Undistracted unable to hear,

The melodious song of those sirens;

Beautiful and enchanting; oh how it lightens,

The spirit and mind;

Leading many astray,

Their purpose behind;

And as they break though the fray,

They all crash and burn;

For all this I refuse to take a turn...

(05/28/2010)