She took my strength by minutes, <br />She took my life by hours, <br />She drained me like a fevered moon <br />That saps the spinning world. <br />The days went by like shadows, <br />The minutes wheeled like stars. <br />She took pity from my heart, <br />And made it into smiles. <br />She was a hunk of sculptor's clay, <br />My secret thoughts were fingers: <br />They flew behind her pensive brow <br />And lined it deep with pain. <br />They set the lips, and sagged the cheeks, <br />And drooped the eyes with sorrow. <br />My soul had entered in the clay, <br />Fighting like seven devils. <br />It was not mine, it was not hers; <br />She held it, but its struggles <br />Modeled a face she hated, <br />And a face I feared to see. <br />I beat the windows, shook the bolts. <br />I hid me in a corner-- <br />And then she died and haunted me, <br />And hunted me for life.<br /><br />Edgar Lee Masters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fletcher-mcgee/
