Love was but a foreign song to me

Meetings in drawing rooms, a discourse over tea
A matter of heart, discussed like a pleasantry
Treated like a royal, trudged over like a peasantry
Love was but a foreign song to me

Lost on my senses, a void I refused to see
Reluctant touches; feathery hesitations
Such a joy to others, my source of eternal agitation
Pulled here, pushed there, mold me a certain way to be

Just thinking about it caused hyperventilation in me
It asked for such an awful undivided attention
Upon heaven and Earth; my unshakable devotion
What was so special about it that I could not see?

The Shades Of Love were colorless to me;
Possession, addiction, suppression, obsession
Love was and will remain out of my comprehension
I was blind to ‘it’ and deemed it not worthy!