Is it you then. You've given up speaking as a poet, for reasons which do not exist? You come like somebody else, walking in your own footsteps, sadly, with bowed head?
How did you get that way? Are you going to sing? Are you going to shut up? Or would you like to have a good cry with the old girlfriend of the one you betrayed?
It was a good enough bargain. And your loving ways? I am tired of them.