Thief

How carefully I made my way,
my treasure under lock was thrust
that safe my tender heart might stay
from words of lies in tones of trust.

The one to whom my fortress fell;
once comfort, now my greatest grief.
The one I should have known so well
has proved to be the vilest thief.

I see the thief. I recognize
a countenance I hate to love,
for as I look I realize
I view a mirror image of

my source of pain, this knave I see...
this thief reflected back at me.