Facing Beauty

At first she smiles, she looks and talks
She is very friendly, she goes for walks,
She says hello, thank you, goodbye,
She even blushes, laughs, pretends to be shy.

You take a step closer, reveal your heart,
she looks at it coldly, ignores your kind art,
driving a stilhetto ever deeper in between,
then turns away having picked your heart clean.

Crushed, unable to think you stagger,
wandering in your mind, a beaten beggar,
you slump against the wall and wonder
Was it vanity or love that tore you asunder?