Hand in hand they walk by my fishbowl
Carefree, they stroll past
Linked by fingers on the sidewalks of city blocks.
But not I.
Not the girl in the fishbowl.
I am in a romance with circumstance, she said.
The leaves on the trees are my loves.
The wind whipping through my hair, the comforting caress of a 'you' thats never there.
That’s why I prefer the green hues of a shaded roadway to the golden glow of a transient love. Nothing gold can stay.