The Bitter Half

I never liked you, remember that;
But like an miser, I clung to my faults.

If we didn't jive, I can't blame you,
It's I who had difficulties with your idea of love.

You were touchy, you were vindictive, you were self-righteous.
Yes, you not I, were in love.

I know I cannot fault you for not setting me free.
Hearts once given aren't retrieved easily.

How soon young love becomes a fetter:
When you're fast, you can't be free.

We've been together for thirteen years;
If not the best, you've given me the worst years of your life.

I can be heartless, I admit it:
It's my way of saving myself from your soft-heartedness.

They say a girl becomes a woman at thirty;
If so, after some confused rock and roll, show me how you waltz.


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  Copyright © 2005 - Makarand Paranjape