I meant to be a certain way.
I had the whole thing figured out:
The lines all written in my play,
With nothing left to fret about,
When you walked in, and changed the lines.
New words flew by from parts unknown
And left with me with all sorts, all kinds
Of rewrites. Certainty had flown
Into a world where only you
Were there, with all my hopes and dreams;
But how to finish, what to do?
Just symbols lost in search of themes —
I meant to be a certain way,
Not leaning on, for life, a loved one;
But joy writes stories of its own,
And now I’m in one, not just writing