They say, 'love is...' this and
'love is...' that.
But I care less of what they appeal
for my own thoughts had made jaunt.

I lie trespass of a desire to win her heart,
though to dismay my affections with a lone start.
Pardon me as I speak of my inability to discern a notion
for which I have decided to hold back emotion.

Partly by the reality of the day to a distance at play,
such weak, rather trivial reason is bleak for my season.
But what am I to her stead, when she chose to leave instead;
True to focus we are worlds apart, figuratively neither taken in part.