The Inconstant Lover Poem by Sheena Blackhall

He vowed he’d love me till the moon dropped dead;
I was the dawn, the turtle dove’s refrain
Why did he take back all the things he said?

He took my hand, I followed where he led
He was my joy, my soulmate, that was plain
Why did he take back all the things he said?

He sprinkled petals on a featherbed
But proved as constant as a weathervane
Why did he take back all the things he said?

Once I was his, his love I came to dread
He wished to change me, make me new again
Why did he take back all the things he said?

He browbeat me until my spirit bled
So low I was, I near forgot my name
Why did he take back all the things he said?

I should have been a lump of clay instead;
That he could mould and pummel and constrain
The mirror never lies. Inside I’m dead.
Why did he take back all the things he said?