There was a girl I loved that made me wild.
But truth be told she was right, I was only a child.

Her name was always a whisper in my mind, for my dear Calypso was confined.

Calypso, was not her name.
By her looks, she and I were the same.

Only three letters reassemble her name.
But I Odysseus am not to blame.

For I was like Sappho writing unread letters to Aphrodite. 
Unlike Aphrodite,  she was like Zeus, acting as if she was almighty.

Our love for words would never run out, until one day we became iced out.

Years went by as I Odysseus became unaware.
That the name Calypso became an echo of a silent prayer.

Fate had plans for this fake affair.
For one day, the coffee filled air became icy with Calypso's stare.

The warmth once given now lay unfair.
The fake smile filled with dispair.

For I Odysseus, with hope in my heart, that my dear Calypso would no longer be apart.

But alas we were not for the arts.
As Calypso's love for words, became two-faced verbs.

Like Odysseus I became imprisoned.
With words unspoken, my quill became decommissioned.

Calypso's name from a whisper became a rave.
For she no longer made me brave.

My dear Calypso, you were wrong.
My love for you was strong.

Even as a child, I knew what fate would bring.
For our love for words attached us with string.