How was I to blame?
With those pretty eyes I see,
I feel trap in Medusa's lair;
I turn to stone when you stare.
How was I to blame?
With those tiny dimples
dancing at the corner of your lips,
sure they tame a lady's name.
How was I to blame?
Your smile is a promise of hope,
sparking my light within
and burning fears in the vault.
How was I to blame?
The harder I shun
the more obtuse I become
like Icarus flying near the sun.
How was I to blame?
You are the poem
I do wish to own
and would really love to call "my own."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem