These Things

I've never really trusted you.
From the start I've seemed to know
I'm never sure your words are true.

Since I with smiling, pleading eyes renew
My pleas; and yet no kindness you bestow,
I've never really trusted you.

Since you with easy, empty sighs construe
My fears as meaningless, I nod, although
I'm never sure your words are true.

From time to time I would your glance imbue
With qualities that then seemed apropos, but
I've never really trusted you.

And if your time would somehow fears subdue,
Would cause some gaudy reprieve from my woe,
I'm never sure your words are true.

But this when I by dying light review,
I find no reason in my mind to know
I've never really trusted you,
I'm never sure your words are true.