Oh, I Thought

I thought, I thought...

I thought you would be a muse

or perhaps a hero in my piece

I thought you would make use

of an angel instead of beast

Oh, I thought you are a man

with a heart so true and pure

I thought you aren't a gun

nor a disease without a cure

I thought you cannot lie

hurt, or bring me to tears

Oh, you dare to let me die

You are murderous for years 

Oh, I thought you are the one

the man I see in the crystal

I thought you are my sun

but I realized I'm going mental

I thought you're different

with a unique heart and soul

I thought you're real and reverent

but being 'someone' was not your role

I thought you're better than them

who play with our hearts so chaste

Oh, you rudely destroyed a gem

you put my faith in you to waste

A great suppressor, yes you really are

I don't deserve the pain you have brought

I am glad we will be afar

I thought you aren't a murderer! Oh, I thought! 

Author's Note

Please rate and review. :)

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Sometime our muses can love us or mistreat us. A muse can wear the clothing of a demon or angel? I like your thoughts. Open the door to a long and good conversation. Thank you for the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[C.C. Marx]

There will always be that person who we thought was someone completely different than they turned out to be, and usually you don't know till its too late.......nice piece

[Ohhhwillow]

This is really beautiful.. How fragile our thoughts are, how detrimental to us they are when reality does not match. Some slight confusion with use of tenses, for example "I thought you're", should be "I thought you were" I think since "thought" is past tense, same with "I thought you were a man" and perhaps the line about the gun could do with grammatical edit too however it is a truly great metaphor. "A disease without a cure", this is lovely. Once this is edited safe to say it'll be in my library

[Rhianne Ney]

This is a great idea. Yes, there are times when we just speculate on something without getting solid proof only to realize that it was all wrong and to just regret it later on. But the poem was really great with the narrator learning his/her lesson

[Mary]

We see what we want to see and think what we want to think until the deceits, the punches, the unheroic actions break the damn rose colored glasses and we begin to see the truth of the other. Your poem is so interesting- can we blame another for not living up to our illusions? Excellent thoughts and subtle yet deep passion throughout.