Selfish Man

Selfish Man

He said he'd never met a heart

as tender as my own.

That I was what his soul had searched for

languishing alone.

His favorite word, "SOMEDAY", he'd use

quite often of OUR lives,

A fool am I who did not see

those selfish alibis.

He played me like an autoharp,

just strumming me along.

I thought he wanted honesty

and sang for him my song.

He used me like an old dish rag,

then tossed me to the side.

I loved the man I thought he was.  

I feel my heart has died.

I guess I should have known it

since I've been this road before.

But never have I trusted one

with all the dreams I bore.

It couldn't hurt me more if I

had taken white hot lead.

The "sweetest heart" I ever knew

played mind games in my head.

I think that I must surely be

the dumbest thing alive,

But I am strong and quick and tough.

I know I will survive.

It's just that now when I awake

There's no song in my heart.

Had I but known 'twould end like this,

I'd never made the start.

Oh, silly me, why should I think

That he would treat me best?

He lives with wife of many years.

Is she loved more?  Nay, less.

I've fallen for the oldest lie

since God proclaimed it sin.

Adultery is theft of love,

with one more Selfish Man.


The painting above is by Steve Hanks.  To see more of his work click the artist's pallette.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Jimmy Carter said in all honesty once (to much derision) that if a man lusted in his heart, that was still adultery.  MMMmmm, maybe I should have thought of that when I read it in my own Bible.  I had only thoughts and nothing more, but losing trust and being used really hurts...

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Nicolette Van der Walt's picture

Dear Jessica

This is such a touching and sad poem….how my heart goes out to you, my friend! But what a brave woman you must be to share this heartache for all to see…I guess it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I hope you dance and love again! Love yourself and the love in your heart…for you are love and you are beautiful!

Kindest regards


Ernest Bevans's picture

The Heart is the seat of all our motives
and even in those moments of our purest
intent, we can let our self be decieved.
It happens to the best of us, for in times
such as this when our beauty is reveiled
by another, our motivation is never evil
and our only sin is the exploring of the
possiblity of being loved and totally
and completely.
This is a very touching poem!
Keep Writing - Keep faith and love alive.