There is a table between us.
An arm’s-length between us.
An inch-width of wood between us.

There used to be a lifetime between us;
We traversed and scrambled across the
Rugged terrain of life.
And we enjoyed the views and the
Panoramic scenery, ignorant of strife.
And I’d have thought that perhaps, one day,
You’d be my wife.

But that lifetime’s a dream for us;
We moved apart,
Got new friends.
Company lost,
No more messages for us to send.
And we gradually, unsuspectingly
Approached the end.

Now there isn’t much between us;
Bar some remnants,
Faded memories,
And an inch-width, arm’s-length piece of wood between us.