A poem I use to know

I saw you the other day
basking in all your priggish philosophies
(as usual),
but this time that breezy attitude
did not intrigue me
the way it use to

Instead all I could picture
was the sight of my fingers
attempting to bring words to life
and make you love me

Meanwhile, the outside world
moved on
while this little heart of mine
delved into her own theory
as to what went wrong

But hey, at least I wrote all your glory away
and my desperation, too

I'm back to present again
and this poem don't make me
want to love you, anymore