What I just said in temper’s heat
when should have let it lie.
Too late the fool who spoke too soon
and such a fool am I.
Those words I spat so hastily so,
my character betrayed.
The self-degrading aftermath;
if I had just delayed.
A knife would not a deeper cut,
such pain is not concealed.
My tongue unleashed, a fit of pique,
my insolence revealed.
I blame her not for fleeing me,
no counsel could repair.
To lash the heart of one’s own love,
takes but a fool, I swear.
And though I wear a classic style,
becomes not what I am.
The tailor makes the three-piece suit
but not the gentleman.
I must abide my just deserves,
to bear what weighs on me.
To know that she still suffers so
and I, her misery.
I pray someday she’ll find her peace
and she to love again.
And let whatever comes of me;
what comes of stupid men.