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A Villanelle poem: All Most


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All Most

How could you hurt my poor heart?
I thought we shared the same sight!
Now I see the mistakes in our art.

The beginning was nowhere to start,
But I'd still trade my days for a night.
How could you hurt my poor heart?

How could your sweet be so tart?
I still would go blind for your sight.
Now I see! The mistakes in our art,

tho' our passions were barely on chart,
made our future distill in the light.
How could you?  Hurt my poor heart

if you dare, I don't care...I'm apart.
I'm in pieces 'cause you feel all right.
Now I see the mistakes: In our art

we tried to lose our false selves & depart.
& you pretended, which I thought polite...
How could you hurt my poor heart
             I see the mistakes in our art.

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