I've heard you leave a trail of sighs
and cast-off handkerchiefs in the street,
women keep falling out of windows
leaning out to watch your careless feet.

They say you smile, and cities fall;
I've heard one glance undoes the wise.
But I've looked you over twice today
and still can't see the reason why.

Your scales shine - fine! - your clothes fit okay,
your words perform their paltry art,
yet none of this explains the floods
of ladies tossing you their tender hearts.

Still, should you pass my way, take care,
I might well accept this tragic role,
not half won over, but curiously inclined,
to learn how mediocre fare so wrecks the soul.


Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Chronos, in the year 999 AF.