I PLAY my sweet old airs - The airs he knew When our love was true - But he does not balk His determined walk, And passes up the stairs. I sing my songs once more, And presently hear His footstep near As if it would stay; But he goes his way, And shuts a distant door. So I wait for another morn, And another night In this soul-sick blight; And I wonder much As I sit, why such A woman as I was born! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONCERNING NECESSITY by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE LITANY OF THE DARK PEOPLE by COUNTEE CULLEN IMAGINARY ANCESTORS: THE GIRAFFE WOMAN OF BURMA by MADELINE DEFREES THE TOURNAMENT by SIDNEY LANIER THE GAME OF CHESS by EZRA POUND |