She lived in one country
I in another, hanging on each
word of "love" she'd utter--
words wrapped in a money request
to be sent at her dire behest!

I gave and gave till I felt like a slave
yet kept on going,
a blind man
ignorant in his towing.

Days turned into years
and years into more years
but I stood hopeful
they were merely stairs
leading to our betrothal.

Oh, how her photos teased and pleased
with a future bride's ecstatic smile
while all along
she was marching down
a different aisle!

Now I'm left with just a sackful of letters and photos
her whereabouts unknown
and my big dream of love
another bittersweet memory for me to own.

There is no hope and
she escaped without shame
Still I ask myself

Who is to blame?