Were I not fool, I’d heed her words and listen to her love.
I’d judge her not, and argue not, and in the dark of night
I would be close, holding her hand, even when times were tough,
And darkness would have us embraced, and saved us from our plight.
Were I not fool, seeing the signs how fragile was her grace
I would be still, calm, peaceful, strong, and falter I would not,
I would have changed my thoughts, my fears, could still have seen her face
And in the dark of weary night, her love I would have sought.
Were I not fool, I would have known that patience runs its course —
For days, for years it gently waits, before it runs away.
I could have seen how with each day fell petals of a rose
That was our love, yet tended not, it would not wait and stay.
Yet I’m a fool, and always was, and still remain the same,
The many things I cared for, the whims I still protect,
The fears that scared away our love, and brought about the shame
Now might be gone — but so is she — what else could I expect?