Did I really love you?

Did I really love you?
Were you just a creation
of a moment’s fancy?
But I did care for you.
But I did worry about you.
But I wanted you helpless and mine.

No! I did not love you.
I did not rejoice
in the moments of strength.
You were just not clay to right mold.
Then why do I think of you?
There’s nothing else to do.