A mismatch

Once two men coming in, caught my eye.
Both were slender and handsome and sly.
Then I was so decidedly pure,
And they both got enchanted by her.

She had in her the glowing of mirth,
She had beauty of many nights worth.
She was neither a saint, nor a whore.
Yet they named her ‘the one to adore’.

She provoked feelings hard to admit
And her smile was arrestingly sweet.
These blue eyes of her won every heart;
The shrewd mind often caught them off guard.

This was something I couldn’t imitate
And I swear that I started to hate.
They both treated the girl like a queen,
I was jealous. You know what I mean…

I kept following them night and day,
Hoping they would somehow look my way.
All was useless, their eyes were on her.
I could dream but it did not occur.

She chose none of the two in the end,
Because she saw no need to pretend.
The luckless suitors lamented and cried
As they lost any reasons to vie.

Now the men are somewhere out of my life,
And she’d long become somebody's wife.
I remain so resignedly pure.
Maybe I shouldn't blame all on her?