I loved her for her beauty.

She was crazy, not for me.

I couldn’t fix that business,

From nineteen eighty-three.

Never said she danced with demons.

There were monsters in her head.

We don’t know Myth from fiction.

So we dance with lies instead.

She sure is nice to look at,

Maybe that’s the curse.

I’ve settled on alone for beauty

It couldn’t be much worse.

Dennis Mantin